Inheritance
by Brutal Let Down
Summary: Castiel is a 27 year old writer who lives alone and mostly keeps to himself. It isn't until a family tragedy and inheriting his family's entire fortune that anyone knows who he really is. While he struggles to maintain a civil relationship with his jealous family, he meets a man with a similar fate, but his inheritance is much more unfortunate. Destiel, MaleXMale, Multi-chapter.
1. Chapter 1

**Castiel is a 27 year old writer who lives alone and mostly keeps to himself. It isn't until a family tragedy and inheriting his family's entire fortune that anyone knows who he really is. While he struggles to maintain a civil relationship with his jealous brothers, he meets a man with a similar fate, but his inheritance is much more unfortunate. Deastiel, MaleXMale, Multi-chapter.**

I'm not even certain how frequently I'll be updating this story, seeing as how I have so many others on my plate e_e But I will say that it won't ever be abandoned. This had been an idea I've been formulating ever since I knew I totally shipped Deastiel, and it's the first in the fandom that I've written for… So there's that.

**(BLD)**

It was raining again tonight, though that wasn't even worth mentioning seeing as how it rained all the time in Seattle. Castiel couldn't bring himself to complain, though. It was the perfect place for him. He had the city loft apartment that he'd always wanted ever since he began to imagine living alone. It had a beautiful view of a park, with wide open fields and fountains that lit up at night, and a forest beyond that, that swayed soothingly when the wind picked up. When it rained, he liked to stare out his wall made of windows while sipping a Brandy. It was the only time he drank, a combination that always relaxed him.

And the city itself was fantastic. Though it rained often, there was still something always going on, keeping the people lively in an atmosphere that tried it's best to be dreary. It was that spirit that drove him here.

Despite all the mud Castiel dragging through the front door, despite needing to wear two coats on some occasions, and even despite the annoying clingy woman who lives a few blocks away from him, this place was still amazing. It was his first true taste of freedom. For the first time in his entire life, he feels he's finally been rid of his family's influence. Out here, where no one recognizes him, he can work and write and not be given praise based purely on the fact that people feared his father if they even so much as critiqued his work. Out here is where he's been able to truly grow, to sharpen his skills and learn from mistakes.

He's gone so far that the tendrils of his family can't reach him, can't hold him down and squash his dreams. Out here he can make a name for himself, and it would be from his own hard work and determination, and not simply riding on his father's coat tails.

He's so entranced by the falling rain, watching a few drops slide down the glass that he doesn't hear the knocks on his front door. It takes the rapidly repeated _ding-dongs _of his door bell for him to blink himself to reality. He sets his already empty Brandy glass on the table standing beside his couch and he quickly jogs to his door.

He expects Balthazar, his friend of ever sense he made the move here two years ago to be standing before him. He'd given Balthazar a manuscript of his latest poem set he was hoping to publish. It had taken him a whole month to come up with a theme for all his poems, wanting to compile them into a book if possible, and after preaching this to Balthazar, he offered to take a look and give some insight, being a fellow write himself.

What he doesn't expect in the slightest is to see his older brother.

"Hey there, Castiel! How's my bro doin'?" Gabriel didn't even wait for the invitation to entire Castiel's home and simply slipped past his dumb-struck brother. He grinned, amused, as he slowly stepped through his apartment, observing his décor and checking out his furniture.

"Where did you get this stuff, some old lady yard sale?" he mumbled as he stared down at the rug before the spiral staircase leading to his bedroom area.

"What are you doing here, Gabriel?" Castiel finally spoke, taking two long strides and stopping just behind his older brother. He was certain he told his family to call before they decided to visit, and to be sure it was weeks in advance. He didn't often get visits from them that were 'surprises', but those were usually emergencies, like when Lucifer was hospitalized and eventually had to get his appendix removed a year ago. Gabriel had come then as well, breathless and panting, like he'd ran all the way from home to come get him.

Lucifer had made a full recovery, though everyone knew he would. But the fear had been real, and even though it was usually an awkward affair whenever he came home, he made the trip for his brother. He knew Lucifer would've raised hell if he didn't see him by his bedside when he woke from surgery.

And now, Castiel is afraid something of the like was happening now. Though he was entirely uncertain why Gabriel was being so… Gabriel.

"Hey, you got any good booze?" he asked, completely ignoring Castiel as he stepped over to the small table that held his 'bar' paraphernalia. It was a kit, including a silver shaker and utensils like in any mix drink kit. It was a gift from Balthazar after he'd gotten a piece into a compilation book of poems. It was mostly for looks, the whole thing a dusty metallic piece of decoration in the corner. He kept his Brandy in a cabinet in the kitchen, along with his glasses, but Balthazar had told him all writers have their drink-ware out in the open. He said it would show visitors that he was a suffering writer, like all writers should be, and he'd have all sorts of women on his arms.

The only kind of visitors he's ever had here were him, their other mutual writer friend Chuck, and… Rachel.

But Rachel was always out of courtesy, it was impolite to not invite a lady in out of the rain. But that didn't mean that he was never uncomfortable when she was in his home every Sunday after church.

"Gabriel, please… is somebody hurt?" he was having a miniature heart attack, standing a few paces away from his brother. He hoped to God everyone was alright.

Gabriel sighed, his shoulders sagging as he toyed with a throw pillow on his couch. He didn't speak for a long while, and Castiel didn't push him. He waited, holding his breath and hoping beyond all hope that he was just being Gabriel. He liked to drag things out, because either he just wanted to annoy Castiel, or he didn't know how to approach a subject. Despite how much it would annoy him, he hoped he was just being annoying. But why would he have made the trip all the way out to Seattle just to annoy him?

When his brother finally turned around, he wasn't expecting the neutral expression he wore. He opened his mouth and meant to say something but there was another knock at his door before any sound could come out.

Castiel sighed, momentarily closing his eyes, then turned briskly to head back to the door. "It's my friend. He's bringing me back my manuscript."

Gabriel didn't make a sound as Castiel went for his door, opening it and sighing as he was met with his friend. "Hello Balthazar." His British friend made a chuckle, "Who pissed in your corn flakes, Cassie?" he then walked in past Castiel, not waiting to be invited in. Castiel hadn't realized he looked so glum already. He ran a hand down his face, a motion that seemed like he was trying to wipe the expression off his face.

"Well, I got a surprise visit from my brother." He mumbled. He's explanation was weak, as Balthazar had already wandered into the living room and saw for himself. And it was like a switch had been flipped, and Gabriel was as chipper as could be. He stepped up and shook Balthazar's hand with enthusiasm. "Hey, I'm Gabriel. Castiel's older brother." He grinned, "And I'm gonna guess that you're the writer friend." Castiel hadn't wanted to mix his friends with family, so he made sure they never met. And now it looks like all his careful planning had gone to waste.

Balthazar chuckled, "One of many." He corrected. "I'm Balthazar. I've known your brother since he moved here." He explained. There was some time spent between his friend and brother, casually chatting, getting to know one another, and the whole while Castiel took a seat in his arm chair. He stared off in the distance, not focusing on any point but stared. Gabriel was pulling his public face.

Because where he's from, his family is in the spot light often, the family had become accustomed to making cameras believe that everything was peachy-kin in the family, smiling and posing for pictures during events. But when the lights went out and the cameras were off, there was sure to be some knives held to some throats.

And right now, the way Gabriel was joking and laughing it up with Balthazar, seeming to be enjoying himself… Castiel could tell just as plain as if he'd been showing his true emotions on his face.

Something was up. And it was bad.

"Castiel…" Balthazar had called his name, and from the sounds of it, he'd called out to him more than once.

"Yes?" Castiel answered, standing up to approach them, trying to not let his anxiety show.

"I was just telling your brother how much you've improved since we met. Then he told me the strangest thing." Balthazar turned completely to Castiel then, his expression seeming to border on hurt.

"He told me you weren't much of a writer back home."

Shit.

He'd told Balthazar that he'd come from a town that praised him too highly, therefor he couldn't ever get any good feedback, and he'd moved to a place where no one knew his name because he wanted to get away from the place he couldn't grow. It wasn't entirely a lie, just the part about being a famous article writer for the paper back home. And only wanting to move because of his career choice.

"Well, Gabriel wasn't much of reader, so that doesn't surprise me that he didn't know I wrote." Castiel countered, not sticking around to wait for any remark or comment from his brother. He was not in the mood to play this game at the moment, and if his instincts were correct, he needed to be packing a bag right about now. He headed for his spiral staircase, ascending quickly.

"What are you doing? I thought we were going to go over your manuscript…" Balthazar called after him.

"Unfortunately, plans have changed. I'm going to have to make a trip back home." Before Castiel could give any further reason, Gabriel chimed in with an acceptable excuse.

"It's our family reunion. He's been skipping out these past couple of years and Pops is making me drag him home." He chuckled. It seemed this excuse had worked because Balthazar had begun to chuckle as well. "Sorry I couldn't have gotten here sooner, Cassie. I could've whisked you away to L.A. for the week and sparred you the family time." He called up to Castiel through the open space of the lofty upstairs.

Despite his current situation, Castiel managed to smirk. He was fairly certain Balthazar would've done it, too. He was that kind of a friend, one willing to help out in a situation beyond your control and even be willing to skip out on responsibilities… well, he might not have been too broken up about his responsibilities, but he was sure it put a burden on anyone to go out of their way for something like that. And Balthazar would do all of that for him. Plain old Castiel who didn't know how to bring his voice out of monotone, or flirt with women.

He was certain he didn't deserve the treatment, but he appreciated it none the less.

"And I'm sure you would have." He mumbled to himself. He made himself busy by digging through his closet and pulling out his set of luggage. There were four bags all together, three ascending in size, and the fourth basically a toiletries bag. He began to fill that one first, going into his bathroom and pulling out his toothbrush and tooth paste and preparing them to be packed.

He hadn't noticed when his brother and friend had followed him upstairs to his room, but when he went for his bedside table to retrieve a tube of chapstick, Balthazar was sitting on his bed and looking through the manuscript he'd given him and Gabriel was fiddling with a small bag of caramel chews he had setting on his dresser.

"It's not necessary for either of you to be here while I pack." He announced, though neither of them made a move for the staircase.

Gabriel laughed, popping one of his chews in his mouth, "I need to make sure you pack your underwear." He chuckled.

Before Castiel could retort, Balthazar spoke up, "So, do you want me to take this to the publishing house for you?" he asked, anticipating that would be his next course of action. Castiel sighed, yanking his chews out of Gabriel's hands and tossing them into his toiletries bag, "If you could, it'd be highly appreciated."

Balthazar looked up from the papers, "Don't worry, you'll be paying me back in kisses." And then gave a wink to Castiel, he only rolled his eyes.

"Hey, how about before we leave I take us all out to dinner?" Gabriel suggested. "You guys pick the place and I'll pay." He stepped in Castiel's way, blocking him from his closet before he could duck into it, gaining his attention. Castiel looked over his shoulder at Balthazar, silently asking if he'd like to come to dinner with him and his brother in the motion.

Balthazar grinned, "Oh, if you insist." He chuckled.

The next few hours were spent packing and choosing which restaurant they wanted to go out and eat at. For Castiel and Balthazar, it was a difficult decision because there were so many places that were appealing, most of them being expensive. But Castiel had assured Balthazar his brother could afford it. He'd only laughed and suggested the nicest restaurant nearby.

Castiel smirked and turned to his brother after he'd finished packing all his bags and made sure he'd brought all his necessary gadgets. "I hope you're in the mood for Greek." It was actually Castiel's favorite restaurant aside from the Asian Fusion grill a couple blocks down the road. When he wanted to impress the few people who wanted to get statements from him regarding his work, he always brought them here. Sure, it got pricey, but Castiel didn't spend much money regardless, so it was never an issue for him. He didn't have many interests aside from his writing, so he didn't see the need in spending all his money.

"Sure, no problem. What's the place called?" Gabriel asked, trying to sneak into Castiel's toiletries bag to get the chews his brother had taken away from him a few hours earlier.

"Theo's." Balthazar answered for him, standing and securing his coat over his shoulders a bit more securely as he anticipated their departure. "It's great, and the owner travels back and forth between his restaurant here and the one he has in Austin, Texas. He has a vineyard out there and that's where he makes his own wine." He explained, turning his torso in a manner to crack some kinks in his back.

"Well, you don't have to convince me anymore." Gabriel grinned, standing up from the chair Castiel had in the corner, right before you got to his stairs.

"Are we going to leave out from the restaurant, or do you want to come back here after?" he asked his brother, stacking his luggage on his bed, setting the satchel bag of his and the toiletries bag right on top.

"Uh, why don't we come back here." The way he'd said it, and the way he'd been looking back at Castiel when he glanced at him told him there was a specific reason why. It was then that whatever good feeling Castiel had been feeling dissipated. He'd come crashing back to reality and remembered there was still something wrong. There was still a reason why Gabriel was suddenly being so nice. It was a wonder none of his brothers had called him before then, but he remembered how Gabriel was. He wanted to be the one to break it to him, no matter the news.

It was for that reason that Castiel could hardly enjoy his dinner, and mostly sat in silence as his brother and Balthazar chatted it up some more. He was surprised the conversation hadn't ever turned to Castiel's past, and his childhood. He'd never spoken to any of his friends about where he'd come from and how his family worked. It was something that Gabriel had apparently picked up on earlier at his apartment. Small miracles.

Once they'd paid and met in the parking lot, and after Castiel had given his friend a hug and farewell, it was just him and his brother standing in the cold Seattle night air. He watched after Balthazar, keeping his eyes glued to his friend's back as he walked away. He almost wished he could come up with a reason to call him back over. Make him stay a bit longer and become a barrier against the bad news Gabriel had for him. He hesitated, still watching Balthazar's car zip off down the road. He didn't want to look at his brother. Not yet. He didn't want to hear what he had to say, just… not yet.

"Let's get to my apartment before it starts raining again." He mumbled, going to his SUV before Gabriel could make a sound. The forecast had only shown rain in the earlier part of the day, and he was sure the rain was done for the night, but he had to come up with some kind of excuse, no matter how transparent it was. He was being childish to think that if he held it off long enough, Gabriel would forget what he'd come to tell him and leave. But it was a small hope Castiel still held, his only hope. He felt the food in his stomach sour as he began to just think about the possible reasons his brother was here, treating him and his friend to a nice dinner. He got in his SUV and quickly cranked it to life, and for some reason felt the need to speed to his apartment. It was a wonder how he didn't get pulled over on his way home.

Once he got to his apartment, he hardly glanced behind him to see if his brother was close behind or not. He was already pulling out his keys and headed for his door. He was frantic now, needing to get this task done and out of the way. It was an obstacle he had to get over before he could get on the road and speed back home.

It was as he started shoving his biggest and second biggest bags in the back of his SUV that Gabriel finally managed to catch up and parked beside Castiel. Castiel didn't want to face his brother just yet, he wanted to finish putting his bags in his SUV and start driving again. If he could get back on the road, he could avoid Gabriel even further.

But the hand that was suddenly on his forearm stopped him. He turned and saw the serious look Gabriel wore and he knew he was about to tell him the reason he came all this way. Castiel wanted to yank his arm away from him, but he knew it was too late. There was no more running away. He looked to his brother, fear painted in his brilliant blue eyes, a small quiver on his lip.

"Castiel." His tone had been stern at first, his hand growing tighter, expecting for Castiel to pull away. But when he didn't, his expression softened and his voice was barely loud enough to not be considered a whisper.

"Dad is dying."

There was a small moment, a small window in time where Castiel was certain nothing in his world mattered anymore. His writing, the friends he'd made, the nice apartment he lived in… Nothing mattered, because his father, the man he'd spent most his life trying to get away from, was now closer to death than anyone had imagined.

What had he done…


	2. Chapter 2

After informing Balthazar that'd he'd be gone longer than initially expected, he tucked his cell into his pocket and stared at the steering wheel of his car. Gabriel told him he was in no condition to be driving for hours into the night, and that they should spend the night at his apartment and wait till morning to make the trip. Castiel hadn't opposed… and he hadn't agreed, either. He just simply slipped into his SUV to make the call to Balthazar, a quick, one sided conversation, and now he sat in silence.

If he felt like crying, he'd have wept till there were no tears left in him. If he'd felt the urge to scream, he would have screamed himself raw. If he wanted to run away from Gabriel, escape his brother and the news of his father, he would be half way to California by now.

But he didn't feel like doing anything.

He sat in his SUV, staring at the steering wheel, and he had utterly no idea of what he wanted to do. It was like his mother all over again, except now he had a chance to say all he wanted to say before his father passed. With his mother, it had been so unexpected. He'd only been 16 at the time, and he'd only been in school for two hours that morning when he was given the news by his principal. She'd fallen down an entire flight of stairs and broke her neck.

What made him the most upset, though, was that he hadn't said goodbye to her that morning. Every day, before he went off to school, he would always say goodbye and tell his mother he loved her. She'd either be in the kitchen, sipping a mug of coffee, or sitting in the living room, reading from a book or the newspaper, still in her robe. Castiel didn't remember seeing her in either room that morning, and without thinking anything of it, he left for school.

He never let himself live that down.

Of course, him not saying his morning farewells had nothing to do with the accident she had latter on that morning, but his mind told him it was all his fault. If he had looked for her that morning, searched through their large house and found her, maybe she wouldn't have fell. It was a ridiculous notion, but it still felt valid in his mind.

He's never told anyone, not even Gabriel, that he feels like he's the reason their mother is dead. He's not sure if it's from shame for thinking such a way, or fear, that maybe Gabriel would agree. Maybe he'd agree and never talk to him again.

Castiel closes his eyes and leans forward until his forehead his resting against the steering wheel.

He told himself this time it was different. He wasn't the cause of his father's eventual passing, and all he could do now was go and be by his side.

He tried not to think how it was his fault because he'd moved away.

* * *

><p>Gabriel stood at the top of the stairs, right in front of Castiel's apartment door, staring down at the unmoving SUV. He sighed, looking down at the pavement below him.<p>

"No, he's just sitting in his SUV. He didn't say anything- Well, he said he needed to call Balthazar. Then he just went and sat in his car." He spoke into his cell phone, eyes sightless as he listened for a response.

There was some rustling on the other end of the phone, "Are you sure he's not crying or anything?" Lucifer asked, his voice concerned, "If he's crying you need to go to him. You can't leave him alone like that." He told his younger brother.

Gabriel grimaced, "That's what I'm trying to tell you, he's not crying. He's not making a sound. He got off the phone with his friend and he just…" Gabriel tried to search for the right word to describe his brother's behavior.

"He just shut down." He shook his head solemnly. "It's like after mom died. I'm sure he blames himself for this, too." He picked at some flacking paint on the railing he stood propped against. "And I still don't know how to console him."

Unbeknownst to Castiel, Gabriel and even Lucifer had picked up on how his behavior had changed after their mother passed. Gabriel had been 18, while Lucifer had been 23, and already moved out of the house, like Michael. Castiel had stopped eating and would often stay up late into the night, either studying or writing. He would do anything really, and he'd leave his room in the morning, already dressed and ready to go to school. Lucifer was the one who suggested it was like Castiel was punishing himself on one of his visits home. It was then that the two brothers realized Castiel blamed their mother's death on himself. At first Gabriel didn't want to believe it, because honestly, how could anyone blame themselves for an accident?

And then one night Gabriel had been returning to his room after fetching a glass of water and he'd heard Castiel. Praying.

He'd asked God for forgiveness. He told God he was sorry he hadn't sought out his mother that morning and caused her death. Then he'd burst into a fit of sobs.

Even though Gabriel wasn't good at things like that, he still entered his brother's room and knelt down beside him where he had his arms propped up on his bed and wrapped him in a hug. Neither of them had exchanged any words, and Gabriel let Castiel cry out his frustration and self-hate on his shoulder. Neither of them had spoken of that night sense it happened.

Lucifer sighed through the receiver, "Well, just… keep a close eye on him. He's got to let it out at some point." There was some more rustling and clanking of metal.

Gabriel furrowed his brow in question, "Are you working?"

Lucifer was silent for a minute, and the only sounds were more clanking and a hiss, like from a fryer. "Yes." Was his only reply.

Gabriel grinned, "So you're talking on the phone on the job…"

"Hey, this is my restaurant. I can do whatever the hell I want." He grumbled.

The younger brother rolled his eyes, "I thought you were gonna be at the house." He shifted in his lean against the railing.

"Yea, well, there's only so much of our extended family that I can take." There was some more clanking and then an audible click. "Besides, Michael told me to go. He said he'd entertain while I worked. It's the only way I can get my head clear."

"I understand." Gabriel commented. Not only did they have friends of the family over at their house, but their Aunts and Uncles were there as well. And all their cousins. Gabriel felt he'd have a headache just thinking about it. He looked back down at their brother in his car. "When we get home, I want that hash brown dish you make ready in the fridge."

There was a pause before Lucifer answered, "Why? I mean, sure I'll whip it up…"

"It's Castiel's favorite, ya'Dummy." He grinned. If there was any small comfort he could give his brother, then he'd find it. And so help him God, if anyone brought up how Castiel's move made their father visibly depressed, he'd punch them right in the throat. Any parent would be upset by their children moving so far away, but that had nothing to do with his sudden illness, and he sure as hell didn't want Castiel listening to all that bullshit. Hearing about their father's depression would only make Castiel that much worse off.

Lucifer chuckled, "Yea, okay. I'll get started on it as soon as it dies down here." Lucifer's restaurant was his pride and joy, and after receiving five star reviews, it became The place to dine in town. Their father held most of his dinner meetings in his restaurant, both because it was such a nice place, and it also presented the opportunity to show-off his son's abilities.

Lucifer's restaurant is ran with an iron fist, though his entire staff recognized his ability and respected him immensely. He'd spent three years in France, training under the wings of some of the most prestige chiefs in Paris, all at their father's expense. Nothing was too good for his boys.

Gabriel's grinned turned softer, more thoughtful, then it fell entirely. "How's Dad doing…?"

There was another long pause, but there was no rustling of cooking to accompany it. Lucifer didn't want to answer. "He's deteriorating at an alarming rate. I'm sure he won't be able to talk here soon." He's voice was small, and wounded. Though their father was a stubborn jackass of a man, there was no doubt that his son's still loved him. The boy's only regret is that neither of them had fathered grandchildren for him.

Gabriel ran his thumb over the metal railing then turned, his back now pressed against it, "We would be on the road now, but its late, and I'm fairly certain Castiel wouldn't be able to make it." He glanced over his shoulder at the SUV, "At least, not like this."

"Alright." Lucifer reasoned, then sighed, "Just hurry up and get here. You heard what the doctor said."

Gabriel didn't need to be reminded of the doctor's words. They were engraved in his mind, and haunted him with each passing day. "Of course. I'll talk to you later, bro." he mumbled, and without waiting for a farewell, he hung up his cell and put it back in his pocket. He tapped his fingers against the bulge of his phone in his pocket for a moment before he began to walk back down the steps to the parking lot.

He needed to get Castiel inside so they could sleep. He was sure Castiel wouldn't get much if any, but he still needed to try. Their drive would take hours, and the cold, northern weather didn't help any.

* * *

><p>The next morning, Gabriel sat on a bar stool pulled up to one of the counters in Castiel's kitchen, facing out toward the living room so he could watch the news. He sipped at a cup of coffee, that Castiel joked was more sugar than coffee. It was the only remark he'd made all morning, besides greeting his brother downstairs and informing him he'd be taking a shower after he made the coffee.<p>

It struck Gabriel as odd how Castiel didn't ask about their Dad, what the circumstances were, how long he had… But then again, he thought maybe Castiel just didn't want to know. He could handle that, he guessed. He just wished Castiel would talk more, not like he was a real talker before, but still.

It was as he was half way through with his first cup that there was a ring at the door.

Gabriel's brow raised as he turned and looked over his shoulder at the door. He then looked down at himself and realized he was only wearing the pajama pants Castiel gave him to sleep in. He only grinned, thinking that it was probably Balthazar, or maybe another of Castiel's writer buddies. So, he got up, cup of coffee still in hand, and went to answer the door.

It was to his astonishment that there was a blond woman wrapped in winter coats and carrying a tray of brownies. She looked just as shocked as he was.

"Um, hello?" was Gabriel weak greeting.

"Uh, I'm Rachel. Is… Castiel home?" the woman didn't seem to be too entirely interested in Gabriel, and it seemed she didn't have time for the strange man in no shirt.

Gabriel chuckled, "Actually he's taking a shower at the moment. But you're welcome to step inside and wait for him if you like, he shouldn't be that much longer." Gabriel suggested, stepping aside to let Rachel in past him. The woman gave a tight lipped smile, obviously feeling a bit awkward by the situation, but took the invitation inside. She made her way to the kitchen where she set down the tray, a few droplets of rain splashing to the counter off the plastic wrap.

"So, now you know _my_ name…" Rachel began, untying the scarf wrapped around her neck. Gabriel raised his brows expecting something more after that, but then he realized what she meant by it.

"Oh," He quickly stepped forward and stuck out his hand to her, "I'm Gabriel. Castiel's older brother." He grinned. This time Rachel's brows rose, accepting his hand for a shake, "Castiel never told me he had a brother."

"Well he has three, actually." He corrected with a small chuckle.

Rachel gave a small, reserved laugh of her own. "Amazing. He never talks about his family."

Gabriel took a sip of coffee to hide the face he pulled. He couldn't say that he was all that surprised. Castiel never liked standing in the shadow of his family, especially after the newspaper article fiasco.

"He doesn't like sharing. He's not very open." He assured, giving a slight nod.

Rachel chuckled, "Oh, I know." She picked at the plastic wrap around the brownies, "Or rather, I _don't_ know."

That time the both of them laughed in unison. Then Gabriel grinned to the girl, "So, Rachel… Are you Castiel's-"

"Oh, no no, we're not-" She began to giggle, her face turning a shade of red as she looked away for a moment. "We're taking things slow. I know he's busy most the time, so I bring him these treats every Sunday to cheer him up." She grinned to Gabriel. "What we've got his special and I understand why he wants to take it slow." She blushed harder as she looked to the ground, a few strands of her blond hair falling over her eyes.

Gabriel's grin was wide and Chesire. "Oh, I bet." Yes, he was going to enjoy the next conversation he had with his brother.

* * *

><p>Castiel ran his towel through his hair rapidly, sending it every which way before he scrubbed it down his soaked limbs and under his arms and legs. He made quick work of drying himself off before he threw the now wet towel into a basket beside the bathroom door in his bedroom. He'd just slipped on a pair of briefs when he heard his brother coming up the spiral staircase.<p>

"I'm getting dressed." He announced, not bothering to turn around as he rummaged around in his closet for some pants and an acceptable shirt.

"Castiel, when were you going to tell me you had a girlfriend." Was what Gabriel decided to ask as Castiel was fitting a button up shirt over his arms.

Castiel's eyes furrowed, confused, because no, he didn't have a girlfriend, and why was Gabriel practically whispering? "I don't." was Castiel's simple reply.

"Ooh." Gabriel made an amused expression, coming closer to his brother, then leaning against the wall by the closet, "The nice young lady down stairs begs to differ."

Castiel's eyes went wide, "Rachel?"

Shit. He'd forgotten today was Sunday.

Gabriel began to chuckle under his breath, grinning stupidly at his younger brother. "She seems real nice, Castiel. Why 'you got her in the friend zone?" he joked, knowing good and well why.

Castiel glared at his brother, "I need you to get her out of here." He spoke now in a hushed tone as well, not wanting his voice to carry over the short loft wall. He hurriedly searched through his pants and started yanking them on. Rachel was the last person he wanted to see today, and if Gabriel loved him he would do him this one favor.

"Oh, but she's not going anywhere until she sees you trying one of her brownies." Gabriel commented, earning a groan from Castiel. He then leaned closer to his brother, "But I wouldn't eat them, I think she put ruffies in them."

Castiel rolled his eyes, "So you didn't try her brownies?" he gave his brother a skeptical glance. Gabriel ran his tongue along the lining of his mouth, as if to wash the evidence away, then glanced down once before he answered, "No…"

Castiel gave a lopsided grin, shaking his head once, "I don't care what you tell her, just get her to leave." He mumbled, buttoning the buttons along his chest.

"Oh, okay. So you won't mind if I tell her you couldn't come down because you were too busy beating one off to a picture of her-" "_Gabriel_!" he hissed at his brother in warning, and if Gabriel hadn't dodged it just in time, he was sure he'd have left a bruise in his arm where he would've hit him.

"Just tell her we're leaving in a few minutes, she'll leave. I promise." Gabriel chuckled, then started to head back to the stairs, ignoring the glare on his back from his younger brother. And Castiel wasn't sure when he got them back, but he watched him shove another of his caramel chews in his mouth before he began to descend.

He huffed, his shoulders sagging as he gave in. Gabriel was right, and it was wrong to treat Rachel that way. He began to button the last two buttons left on his shirt and started to feel shitty for dragging Rachel along like this, but… He didn't want to hurt her feelings. She really was a nice girl, he just…

He sighed, his hands dropping as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back. He needed to break it to her somehow, he just didn't know how. He didn't mind that she came over every Sunday after church, but when they would take a walk around the park, there was more than one time where he had to covertly walk with some distance between them or there'd be a handholding attempt from Rachel he'd have to fend off.

The worst though, by far, was when he'd went to her little bakery to pick up some bread. He wound up having to wait ten minutes, because that's when she 'got off', and Rachel bought the bread for him and even walked home with him. And because he's such a push over, Castiel wound up making sandwiches for the both of them.

It was an awkward affair on his part, but Rachel would never know because he's so good at masking his unease around others, thanks to his public face training. But then, at the end of there… Castiel didn't even want to call it a date, but at the end of that encounter, he'd led her to his door and went to give her a farewell hug when Rachel, out of nowhere, stole a kiss. If he hadn't of been so shocked, he would've been annoyed, and there wasn't much time for him to brush off the shock before Rachel was giggling and skipping away.

Just remembering it, Castiel shuddered. It wasn't that she was gross, or anything, it's just… He didn't realize her lipstick had left a residue until later that night, when he glanced down at a glass he'd been drinking out of and there was a small red smudge.

He swallowed, and bravely headed down stairs. He could hear Gabriel chatting with Rachel, a good sign, he thought. Then he saw her, sitting neatly on one of his tall barstools, her hands folded over the counter. Once she noticed him coming down, her smile was bright and pleasant, and she was truly happy to see him, as would anyone under the spell of puppy love.

"Good morning, Rachel." He greeted as he finally made it to his kitchen, his smile tight, but nice enough to fool Rachel.

"Good morning, Castiel." She greeted back, and it was then that Castiel noticed the small amused quirk of her lip. "I see you washed up nicely in your shower."

Castiel grinned, of course she would comment on him being fresh out of the shower. He was certain that was an attempt at flirting. "Yes, I reeked of Greek food from last night." He commented under his breath. He knew the way she felt, and it would hurt her when he finally admitted that he didn't feel the same way, but that didn't mean he had to play along with the flirting game.

And really, if he wanted to, he probably wouldn't know how.

Rachel giggled anyway, as if Castiel had flirted back, "I made you brownies today. It's the kind with the marshmallow puff mixed in." she smiled warmly as she reached across the counter and retrieved the brownie tray, only having one small square taken away.

"Thank you, Rachel. You know you don't have to." He commented, hoping she got the message from that alone, but he knew it was hopeless. He took out a pre-cut square and took a nibble from it, to satisfy her. After chewing and smiling to her, she smiled back, "Are they good?"

"Of course." He commented, eating the rest of the small square. He gave a small glance to Gabriel, and he could've glared because his older brother was just grinning like a fool as he stood leaned against the stove. He was enjoying this too much for Castiel's liking, and he deciding now was the time to tell her.

Well, it wasn't _that _time to tell her, no, he was sure that would come much later. Right now he needed to tell her of his departure.

"Rachel, my brother came over because he wants me to come back home with him for a family reunion." He decided it was safest to stick with that story. And if he had to tell the family reunion story to _Balthazar_, there was no way he was telling the truth to Rachel.

Rachel gave a small gasp, her hands clapping once together, "Oh, that sounds so nice, Castiel! How long has it been since you saw the rest of your family?" Castiel gave an uncomfortable sigh, but his smile didn't waver, "It's been two years." He answered.

"But the point I'm getting to is that we're about to be leaving shortly. I should've told you yesterday when Gabriel got here." He feigned apology in his sentence.

Rachel laughed, the sound high and resonating in his loft apartment, "No, Castiel, it's been nice to talk with your brother." There was a pause as she glanced over to Castiel's older brother, making a show of giving him a once over, "He's such a charmer." She grinned to Gabriel who smirked and then winked, causing her to giggle some more.

Castiel was fairly certain that display was meant to rouse a sense of possession in him towards her. Castiel tried very hard to quell the urge to jump out a window.

He managed to chuckle instead, then swiftly turned the conversation in the other direction, "Well, I have to grab a few more things, and I'm ready to go." He told his brother, who thankfully got the message.

"Alrighty." He leaned forward until he fell forward the smallest bit and caught himself with an outstretched leg. "I hope you don't mind if I share these with the rest of the family, Rachel." Gabriel caught her attention, allowing Castiel to slip away upstairs to continue to get ready. "But I'm pretty sure everyone would like to try a piece." He smiled innocently to her.

Rachel gave a wide smile, "Oh of course not, they're for everyone to enjoy." She assured Gabriel. As Castiel went back upstairs, he could only shake his head because he knew all the brownies would be gone before they could hit the borders of Idaho.

* * *

><p>Okay, so I made a small mistake in the last chapter, and instead of it being Rachel, I wrote Heather for some reason. I fixed it now, and there should be no problem.<p>

**(BLD)**


	3. Chapter 3

Just so we're clear, Castiel's hometown is fictional. So you will not be finding it on any map.

**(BLD)**

The trip to Southern Idaho was long and tedious. The roads were wet and with such low temperatures the chance of black ice was a high possibility. Neither brother wanted to run the risk of getting thrown around so they had to take it even slower. They stopped in Lewiston for lunch and a much needed bathroom break and continued on from there. They stopped only twice for gas, and at around 7pm, Gabriel and Castiel were finally starting to see the beginnings of their hometown, North Newhaven.

Castiel leaned into his steering wheel, looking out his windshield to see just how much the town has changed. Though there might have been a few new stores and some new restaurants, he couldn't tell much else had been happening. He sighed, leaning back into his seat and followed behind his brother, allowing him to lead the way. Soon, the road led them to a secluded drive, with a gothic style Iron Gate stopping their onward motion. Castiel drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, now feeling nervous that he was about to see all his family after such a long time. Yea, he'd seen them last Christmas, but that was still nearly a year ago. November chill frosted the leaves of the trees that made a natural tunnel down the drive leading to the house.

They waited for the gates to be opened, and Castiel presumed Gabriel had informed the gatekeeper they were home via cellphone. A few moments later, Castiel watched as the large gates began to sway open. The two vehicles crept through the trees, wind rustling the branches, sending dried leaves to flutter to the ground. It was almost eerie, especially with the fading light of day behind them.

Soon, the trees parted and the road made a wide circle, bringing them to stop in front of a Victorian style white brick mansion. Inside the continuing drive that made a full circle back to the road leaving out was a water fountain that sent a spray of water to the foot of a brass sculpture of an Angel, reaching towards the sky. The sculpture was a small comfort, having been one of Castiel's favorite parts of their home. As they parked, both brothers getting out of their vehicles, Castiel inhaled deeply. The air was crisp and cold, though Castiel could very easily smell something cooking inside with even this distance between them.

"Is Lucifer home?" He asked as Gabriel stepped up beside him. Gabriel grinned, "Why don't you come find out?" he asked, walking ahead of Castiel and down the pavement foot path leading to the front door. Every few feet there was a wooden archway, with vines of wild grapes growing all over them. There were three in all, and Castiel followed Gabriel up the marble stairs to the door. The wood of the door was dark, red brown, and Castiel couldn't help but to reminisce.

Gabriel didn't knock, or ring the bell, but simply stepped turned the knob and stepped in.

As Castiel followed behind he couldn't shake the sense of dreariness that suddenly engulfed him as he took in all the familiar features of his childhood home. For one, it was awfully quiet, and the only noise came from the kitchen, ahead of Castiel and beyond the twin staircases lining the left and right walls. He glanced once to the upstairs, watching as a nurse in a teal outfit walked from one hall to the next, hardly interested in looking down to see the newcomer. Castiel supposed she was here for his father. He also assumed his father was here, instead of in a hospital.

Castiel swallowed to try and alleviate the sudden dryness in his throat.

The two brothers walked through the short hallway and entered, what seemed to be, a remodeled kitchen. Every fixture and appliance was modern, and very unlike the classical style it had been last Christmas. There was a hanging light fixture that doubled as a mechanism to hold pots and pans in the air. The fridge had a touch screen on the front, lighting up when deft hands scanned over it. The stove had a glass top, eliminating unsightly stove eye coils.

The whole kitchen looked efficient, was what Castiel decided. It looked exactly like what Castiel would imagine Lucifer would design.

When the man who had been busy pulling out a cube of cheese from the fridge finally turned around, Castiel finally got to see his brother's face. "Hello Lucifer." Castiel greeted the man.

Lucifer smirked, his expression always caught in that bemused half lidded look, it was hard to tell how he really felt. But as his older brother came to him and wrapped him in his arms for a warm hug, Castiel could tell he'd missed him.

"It's good to see you, Castiel." He whispered to him, patting his back affectionately, then leaned back far enough that Lucifer could get a good look at his face. "You need to call me more." He scolded his brother, his expression a bit sterner, but then quickly wiped away as his brother leaned in and kissed his cheek.

Castiel grimaced, wiping a hand over his cheek as both Lucifer and Gabriel chuckled. "I'm not a child anymore, there's no need to treat me like one." He mumbled.

"Yea, well you're my little brother and that never changes." Lucifer countered, then suddenly engulfed Castiel in a large hug, which Castiel tried to dislodge by wedging his arms between him and Lucifer, but they wound up smushed between his chest and Lucifer's. "Lucifer…" Castiel groaned, trying to pull away when Lucifer tried pulling him closer to put more kisses across his face. "Let go!" he complained.

Gabriel was only laughing it up, having a great time watching as Castiel tried walking backward to get Lucifer to let go of him and Lucifer only held him tighter, "Don't fight the love, Castiel." Lucifer groaned, then managed to plant a kiss on Castiel's chin before he began chuckling too hard to hold him tight enough. Castiel finally managed to break free from his weakened grasp and took the necessary steps away to be out of his brother's reach.

"I am 27 years old, Lucifer." He grumbled, flattening his clothes back over his chest and stomach where they had been dislocated by the tussle.

"And I'm 34. What's your point?" Lucifer countered with a smirk.

Castiel rolled his eyes, turning to leave the kitchen, but Gabriel grabbed at his arm, "Hey, hey, hey, we're not done here." He grumbled. "Lucifer made you something." He announced, in a sing-song voice that Castiel assumed was meant to entice him.

He sighed and turned back to his brothers, "What did you make…" he mumbled, still annoyed but willing to satisfy Lucifer.

Lucifer grinned, turning to the oven and opened it, then reached up to the counter for heat resistant pad holders that he used to pull a glass dish out of the oven with. He then set the dish on a pot holder on the island in the middle of the kitchen, in front of Castiel, "All it needs now is the last layer of cheese." He mumbled, already turning back to where he'd set down the cheese grader and the cube of cheese. He brought them back to the dish and began to grade cheese over it.

Castiel stared at the dish, for a moment thrown off as to what it could be, but as Lucifer started to layer cheese over the top he suddenly realized, "You made me the hash brown dish." He stated as a fact rather than a question.

"I sure did." Lucifer confirmed with a wider grin as he finished the last layer. "I thought you'd be hungry after that long trip. How'd that go, by the way?" he directed the question to Gabriel, heading over to the cabinets to get Castiel a small one so he could have something to eat.

"Well, it was long and boring. There weren't any good stations for the longest time, just a bunch of country hee-haw mess, then there was a Latina station!" Instead of it coming out sarcastic like Castiel had thought he'd meant by it, Gabriel seemed excited. Perhaps he'd actually enjoyed the Latina station…

"I'm suddenly very glad I decided to drive myself." Castiel mumbled. Lucifer snickered, setting Castiel's plate in front of him with a generous amount of the dish on it for him along with a fork. After a quiet thank you to his brother and an annoying ruffle of his hair by Lucifer, Castiel took a bite. It was like he remembered, creamy, cheesy, gooey goodness. He gave a small, satisfied smile as he continued to eat his fill.

"I assume that means it's good, huh?" Lucifer grinned as he leaned a hand against the counter as he watched his brother eat.

Castiel nodded, only able to hum as his mouth was full. Gabriel and Lucifer both chuckled. "Good." Lucifer mumbled. His smile fell away as he decided to bring up the elephant in the room. "So…" he began, looking to the ground for a moment before he looked back up at Castiel. "How much has Gabriel told you?" he asked quietly, compared to the jovial way he'd been speaking only a moment ago.

Castiel stared down at the half empty plate, his appetite not all that important anymore. "Just that father is…" he swallowed, hard, "Dying." He finished.

Lucifer gave a nod, "I can fill you in on the rest if you want. Dad is sleeping right now, and the nurse tells me he won't be up for another few hours before lights out." He told Castiel. As the two of them made the small exchange, Gabriel had begun to make his own plate as well, eating quietly as he allowed the two to talk.

Castiel nodded, only eating now because he wanted to use it as an excuse to not talk.

"Well, a few weeks ago, Dad started feeling off. He said it started with headaches and then he'd suddenly be exhausted and he'd have to go sit or lay down. Then he started forgetting things, sometimes small things like where he set his brief case, and then big things, like if he'd gone to the bank or not." Lucifer rubbed his thumb and pointer in between his eyes, "And then he lost most of his coordination." Lucifer stared blankly for a moment at nothing. "He couldn't go into the office anymore because he said he felt like he'd collapse at any moment." Lucifer looked to the ground then, "He went to the doctor and they told him he had stage four brain cancer."

Castiel's eyes went wide, "Why have you waited this long to tell me…" he mumbled, suddenly starting to fill anger well up inside him.

Lucifer sighed, "Because Dad didn't tell _us_ until a few days ago." He then looked back up at Castiel, meeting his eyes, "Even before he told us, it kept getting worse and worse, and he began seeing things that weren't there, he said he couldn't keep food down anymore." He shook his head for a moment, looking off to the side, out the window to the front lawn. "He said he didn't want us to get worked up over nothing."

Of course. That sounded just like their father. He tried to hold their best interests in mind but what he wasn't realizing was that it was affecting his children regardless and now he was only pushing them away. He'd done it with Castiel, and look where it got him. But how could he act this way on his death bed? What was he trying to accomplish here?

Castiel sighed, "So did he just expect that he'd pass away without letting us know and we'd be less heartbroken?" Castiel hadn't realized how tight with emotion his voice sounded until it had come out. "Did he think we'd feel better not knowing he was going to die?" Castiel was unaware at how badly he had begun to shake until Lucifer came forward and wrapped him in a more tender hug, holding him tightly. Castiel was shocked when only a few seconds later of shaking that he began to cry.

He reached up and held Lucifer back, needing to keep him close or he felt he'd fall apart completely. That's when the all-out sobs started, racking his body with small convulsions as he wept. Lucifer ran his hand down his back, soothingly; his face nestled on Castiel's shoulder as he held him, allowing him to let it out. He was glad he finally did, having been worried for him after hearing about his reaction from Gabriel. He knew he had to break at some point, and he was glad he was here to help him through it.

Gabriel was suddenly there, his hand also on Castiel's back, but he had to look away, afraid he'd start to tear up as well. He'd been so frustrated at his father for not telling them as soon as he found out, but he knew it wasn't helping the situation. He tried to reign in the anger he felt, because right now Castiel needed to be comforted.

Slowly, Castiel stopped his crying and he turned to soft whimpers that turned to quiet sniffles. As he pulled away from his brother, he saw that Gabriel had gone and fetched a box of tissues for him, holding them in his hands as he waited for Castiel to ask for one.

Castiel wiped at an eye then reached out, Gabriel holding them out for him, and grabbed a tissue, first wiping away his tears then grabbed another to blow his nose. The whole while, Lucifer had been rubbing his shoulder, coaxing Castiel to relax. "I had someone clean the sheets in your room so you can sleep. I can go wake you when Dad wakes up." He mumbled to him.

Castiel gave a nod, allowing Gabriel to lead him out of the kitchen and to the stairs. He couldn't look at the family pictures hanging up in grand frames along the walls. He was too afraid to burst out again. Right now all he wanted was to lay down, and hopefully sleep some because he was truly exhausted from the long drive, and now he was emotionally drained as well. He didn't know who all was here in the house, but right now he didn't care. He just wanted to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

He'd like to say he was the kind of teenager that put posters on his wall of his favorite bands or his favorite movie ads. Or even a half-naked attractive person. But no, when Castiel had been growing up, the most interesting thing he found visually pleasing were wide angle, high definition shots of nature. He had a poster made out of a picture he took, where he'd perfectly captured a bolt of lightning striking the very tip top of a tree. He has pictures somewhere of the resulting fire it started, probably in his closet. There was another picture of the many paths and narrow crevasses the Grand Canyon made, at a bird's eye view. There was another poster, the one hanging up above the head of his bed, of an old, run down shack of a house surrounded by the woods and a thin fog had settled on the ground below it.

That was his favorite one. The house was rumored to be haunted, and some nights, when he couldn't sleep, he'd write out an adventure he would have, about confronting the spirits that resided there and casting them out. Usually he didn't finish any of those stories because they got him tired enough to finally fall asleep, or they were so incomprehensible he couldn't make heads or tails of what they meant. He'd been half asleep, anyway.

When he moved to Seattle, he thought about the little stories he wrote about the haunted house in his room and maybe he should finish them and publish them. But then he met Chuck, and he decided that the little stories were too closely related to what Chuck wrote.

He sighed, staring up at his ceiling. He'd woken up some time ago, and he'd been eyeing his old room since. There wasn't much else in the way of décor in his room besides the posters. He made a small grimace, realizing he was a very bland teenager. He then sat up, scratching a hand through his hair and stood to head out through his door. Before he could take hold of his door handle though, it was turning and then being opened.

"Oh, I didn't know you woke up." Gabriel mumbled. He was holding two of Castiel's luggage in his arms, and it was then that Castiel realized there was some more of his luggage already placed inside his room.

"Were you bringing all this to my room by yourself?" he questioned, taking the bags from his brother and setting them with the others.

"Well Kali sure as hell wasn't going to help." He grumbled, a small wisp of irritation leaking through his words.

Castiel grinned, "Kali is here?" He hadn't seen Kali for a whole year. Last year she went home to India to spend time with her family for Christmas. So, Castiel hadn't seen her in what seemed like forever.

"Yeeep." Gabriel answered, then suddenly looked behind him, as if expecting to see her standing there. He sighed, turning back to Castiel, "She was out getting some shopping done earlier today. She just got back maybe 20 minutes ago." He shrugged, "I didn't feel it was important enough to wake you."

"So I'm not important anymore, huh?" came a very sultry voice from down the hall.

Gabriel's eyes went wide, his lips taut, "That's not at _all_ what I meant, Sweet'ems…"

"Uh-huh." Kali smirked, coming up to her fiancé and brushing him aside so she could come up to Castiel and give him a warm, affectionate hug which Castiel recuperated in earnest. "I've missed you, my _chota bhai_." She murmured to him.

"_Isi taraha, meri bahana_." Castiel responded, though his Hindi was a little rusty.

Kali pulled back, "Ooooh, look at that." She then looked over her shoulder at Gabriel, "Look how easy it is for your brother." She hissed at her fiancé.

Gabriel rolled his eyes, "I'm sorry I haven't picked up any Hindi books lately, Kali." He groaned. Then he looked to Castiel, "Stop making me look bad." He warned, then left back down the hall. It wasn't any secret that Kali wanted Gabriel to learn Hindi so she could finally take him to her home in India. Gabriel was just stubborn and lazy, and every time he tried to pick it up on a program like Rosetta Stone, or take a class, it proved too hard, and he'd give up. And then Kali would threaten him again, and he'd have to try, or at least he had to seem like he was trying again.

Castiel had picked up all his books and programs for himself and learnt it all on his own, as a pass-time. He thought if he'd learnt it, he could help Gabriel learn it as well, but it had only made Gabriel angry, to say the least.

Kali smiled impishly at Castiel, "I love the man, I do. But he is so lazy." She complained to him, then gave him a few pats on the cheek. "Come downstairs. Lucifer made dinner." Kali then let Castiel go, turning back to go back down the hall.

"But…" Castiel frowned, but Kali had gone too far to hear him ask, "Why hasn't Dad woken yet…?" He stood by himself, then, his brows knit in confusion and worry. No one had come and got him in the few short hours he'd been asleep, and still, no one seemed to mention whether or not he'd woken.

Castiel sighed, leaning against the door frame as he dragged a hand down his face. He tried not to be troubled by this any further, about still not being able to see his father, but he failed. He wondered if he could just…

Castiel glanced down the halls, to his left and then to the right and made for the stairs as quickly and quietly as he could manage. He made his way to the left set of stairs, so he wouldn't be seen going to the hall leading to the downstairs bedrooms. He glanced into the dining room, seeing that everyone was gathered at the table, serving portions of food on plates that Lucifer had no-doubtedly set on the table. The foyer was dark and unlit, allowing Castiel the cover he needed to sneak into the hall.

He glanced once behind himself, making sure no one had seen him, then he made his way back down the hall. The first thing he noticed were the beeps and chirps of machines, probably the ones the making his father's condition more comfortable. As he got to the last door at the end of the hall, the one for the grand, master bedroom, Castiel found himself frozen. He couldn't move his hand to open the door. He was afraid to see what kind of state his father was in. He suddenly realized he didn't want to do this alone. A sigh came from him, stuttering past his lips as he began to choke up.

No, he couldn't do this, not right now, not alone.

Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder, and when he turned, he wasn't expecting to see who he saw. Maybe Lucifer, or Kali. Or maybe even the nurse he saw running around earlier.

"Michael…" he murmured, and then Michael was wrapping his arms around his younger brother, rubbing his back and holding him close. It felt odd, having Michael hug him like this. Usually he only hugged his brothers and family when he was trying to make a show of being the 'caring older brother'. With Michael it was hard to tell what was his normal face and his public face.

"It's time for dinner, Castiel." He told him, then, in a motion that was a little less caring and a little more forceful, he pulled away from the hug and gripped Castiel loosely by the shoulder and guided him away from their father's door. He stared at the ground as he could physically feel the distance growing between him and his father. For a moment, he felt the stare of his brother, but he didn't pay it any mind. He stayed quiet until they made it to the dining room, where most everyone had already taken a seat with a plate full of food.

"There you are. I thought you got lost in your own house." Kali chuckled, then took a sip of her red wine. Castiel only rolled his eyes.

"Come on. I made ham, beans and rice to go with your potatoes." Lucifer spoke up, already standing to start making Castiel's plate for him. Castiel didn't stop him, even though he felt like asserting again for the thousandth time that he was an adult and he didn't need his brother to make his plate for him, but he found himself too weak to do it himself. He had a feeling he wouldn't be able to eat much as it was, but he would try.

"So…" Lucifer began after he set Castiel's plate down at an open spot on the table. "Gabriel tells me Seattle is miserable this time of year." Michael laughed as he made his own plate, spoons and forks sinking into the dishes and bowls laid out before them. "I hear the same." He mumbled, sending Castiel a quick glance from his dark eyes.

Castiel sighed, taking a seat in front of his plate, "It's not really all that bad. I knew about the weather conditions before I moved there, and they aren't making me leave." He answered simply.

Confusingly, that got a laugh out of everyone at the table. He didn't try discerning what was so humorous about his response, and he began to eat, a bit begrudgingly, albeit. He was tired of getting laughed at, and he decided to stop listening to it.

"Oh come on, Castiel. Don't pull that face." Gabriel spoke above the ebbing laughter. "It's just been such a long time since we've all been together like this. We've missed your Castiel-isms." He produced a reasonable answer.

Castiel wasn't impressed, "I'd like it if you'd all stop laughing at me, regardless." He mumbled, staring down at his slice of ham.

"Castiel is right, we do need to lay off him a bit." Lucifer glanced around the table, gesturing with his wine glass, his eyes stern. "But there is reason to celebrate." He then made eye contact with Castiel, the tip of his glass pointed to his youngest brother as he gave a smirk, "He's found himself a ray of sunshine in that dreary rain town." He then took a sip, still holding his brother's eyes until the glass obscured them. So, Lucifer could clearly see how Castiel's eyes went as wide as his dinner plate.

"Oooooh." Kali's eyes were wide as she made a sound of astonishment, glancing between everyone at the table.

"Lucifer, please." Castiel begged, his moody eyes drooping in embarrassment.

"No, no, Castiel. I want to congratulate you. She seems nice enough. A proper church going girl." Lucifer spoke as he poured himself another glass of wine.

Michael raised a brow, "A girl?" he mumbled, glancing to Castiel before he ate a forkful of potatoes.

Castiel sighed, his eyes closing as his head fell. "Yes, a woman has decided to focus her affections on me."

"What's her name?" Kali spoke up, leaning almost into her dinner plate. If anyone would have been looking, they would have seen the almost vicious amusement splayed across her face.

"Rachel." Gabriel produced for her. "She can bake some mean brownies, too." He smirked to Castiel. What he didn't expect was to get a glare from his brother beside him.

"You ate some other woman's brownies?" Lucifer annunciated each word like a scorned lover, his expression scarily calm.

Gabriel giggled, "I only ate one, I was being polite." Gabriel reasoned, for some reason feeling the need to protect himself.

"I only ate one, and Gabriel had the rest of the batch on the trip home." Castiel quickly threw his brother under the bus so the attention could finely divert itself away from him and his issues. He was relieved when Lucifer looked to him with an agape gasp that turned to Gabriel. Gabriel looked to Castiel mouth wide, despite the amused grin trying to take over, appalled by his betrayal.

"Of course. It's so unlike Gabriel to only have one." Michael chuckled, cutting into his ham with an amused grin.

"So. What kind of recipe did she use?" Lucifer smiled then, the fake kind of smile that his brothers have grown to fear. "Did she put nuts in it?"

Gabriel laughed, his head falling back, "Shut up."

"Oh, no. It's too late now." Lucifer countered, "You're gonna tell me what was so special about those brownies, and I am going to outdo them." He seethed in feigned rage.

Kali and Michael only laughed, eating and drinking as Lucifer tried to scare Gabriel, while Gabriel seemed entirely unapologetic. "Well, if you really must outdo them…" Gabriel grinned, "I have no power to stop you. I would be a slave to your confectionary perfectionism."

Lucifer's eyes narrowed even as he grinned back, "Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't you. Too bad I'm making Castiel eat them." He countered with a devilish smirk and victorious cackle.

The gasp that left Gabriel had everyone, even Castiel in uproarious laughter, and for a moment, Castiel wasn't worried about his father.

* * *

><p>Kali said "I've missed you, my little brother."<p>

And Castiel responded with "Likewise, my sister."

So, even though I might change it in other fics I write that include Michael, in this one, Michael is in the form of young John Winchester.

**(BLD)**


	5. Chapter 5

There was seldom a time that Dean couldn't take comfort in listening to his Dad's old records. Right now was one of them, because right now, all Dean wanted to do was take his half empty bottle of whisky and throw it up against the nearest wall. These old songs, these records just made him angry now. All they did was remind him of his old man, and right now, that wasn't a good thing.

That jackass was paranoid right till the very end. Not once in the last three years did he pay bills, taxes, or child support. He owed so much money right now, Dean couldn't even think about restoring the old house even if he wanted to. Since he was oldest, the family house had been passed on to him. Along with all of its debts. He didn't know how his dad kept avoiding bills like he did, but damn.

And the real kicker is that the money was here, in the house, somewhere hidden. The cache had enough money to pay for _six_ years of unpaid bills, and all Dean had to do was find it. His old man wasn't the type to ever hand things over easy, and Dean, unfortunately, hasn't gotten close yet. The paranoid lunatic that he was made him think he had to save up his money and keep it hidden, so they would have currency for the apocalypse. Even thinking about it now, Dean's eyes closed in phantom embarrassment as he leaned against the kitchen counter. It was hard to try and help his dad when all he talked about was radio waves being compromised by the government, or some such. It was all a jumbled mess to him now, and really, he didn't like to think of his dad as that scared, paranoid man he'd been there at the end.

No one seemed surprised when they found John's body in an irrigation ditch, a survival bag strapped to his back. The doctors say he was hit by what seemed to be a semi-truck. He'd been walking along the highway, to God knows where. He'd left his own truck parked in the back of the post office, and he walked from there. Dean wasn't sure what set him off to take this vision quest, but it was no use thinking about it now.

It had been two weeks, and the pressure was starting to get to him. Working at Bobby's wasn't going to cut it, and he needed to start looking for another part-time job.

He sighed, pulling the phone back up off the counter where he'd put it as soon as Sam started going off on his rant. The other end had just gone silent for a few moments and Dean arched a brow, speaking into the receiver, "Are you done?"

There was a sigh on the other end, "Dean, did you even listen to anything I was saying?" Sam's voice was irritated.

"I would have if you hadn't been talking nonsense." Dean replied, his arm not holding his phone up to his face folding under his elbow.

"I just said I was coming back home to help and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

Dean threw his head back, groaning, "Sammie, listen, I've got this. It'll take a while to pay it all off, but I don't want you leaving school." Dean tried to reason, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "You remember what Dad said?"

There was a long pause, "Dad said a lot of things, Dean."

"He said school comes first… No matter what." Sam sighed at his brother, but Dean continued, "This is one of those '_No matter what_'s."

"_DEAN_…" Sam barked at him, "Dad is dead and you're in debt up to your eyelids, and we're about to lose the house. I'm helping." Sam told his older brother resolutely. Unfortunately, there was really nothing Dean could do to stop his brother from coming back to New Haven, and as much as he hated it, he really did need the help. Because there was no fucking way he could find that stupid cache in this house of mirrors.

"Dean…?" Sam spoke in an almost whisper, afraid he'd lost his brother again.

"Aren't you coming home for Thanksgiving?" Dean suddenly asked as his shoulders drooped, defeated.

"Uh, yea. But that's in a couple weeks." Sam answered, and Dean could hear rustling on the other end, like Sam was moving into action, "But I can switch all my classes to online classes if that'll make you feel better. I can work on classes while I'm there with you, so you can see I'm still working."

Dean nodded, though to no one, "Alright, alright… Listen, you set up your classes the way they need to be done, and… you just get here when you can." He said then, feeling somewhat ashamed that he has to pull his brother out of classes to fix his problem.

But then again, it really wasn't _his_ problem, was it. It was his father's problem, one that he dumped onto Dean unwittingly. With Sam coming into the picture, he realized it was a family crisis. Dean ran a hand through his short strands of hair. It had just been him and Sam for the longest time, after their mother died, their father hadn't been the same. What constituted as _family_ had been construed. So every problem was _his_ problem, and it took a lot out of Dean to realize Sam was now grown. He couldn't be bossed around by his older brother anymore.

"Dean…" Sam spoke up again.

Dean inhaled through his nose, trying to clear up what emotion had been leaking in through his voice, "Yea, Sam?"

"Everything's gonna be fine." Sam told him, and Dean wanted so bad to believe him. But all he could do was think about the facts and the probabilities of everything being alright and he wanted to throw it all back at Sam's face, tell him there was no use and to stay in Boise and keep going to college while Dean drowns in the debt.

"I know." He answered instead.

His green eyes stared sightless to the hardwood floor of the kitchen. Before he spoke again, he reached behind him and grabbed for the whisky bottle, taking another large sip. "I'll talk to you again soon, Sammie."

Sam was quiet for a moment, "Alright, Dean." And that was all Dean let him get out before he hung up, setting his phone back on the counter. He sighed, feeling so pathetic. His dad was the worst, though, running off like a psycho and getting himself killed on the highway… While Dean and Sam both sat here, in this very kitchen worried sick about where he was, what he was up to.

He told no one what he was doing, or where he was going, and of course he'd left his phone at home. And all during the five day search, Sam and Dean assumed he was on another one of his hiking trips. But it was a long shot, because as soon as their Dad became a psychotic mess, he stopped his hiking trips. No one wanted to say it, but everyone knew. Their father wasn't coming back.

At 11 am, on the fifth day, Officer Mills came to the house. Sam was home, but Dean had been out when he got the text to come home. And that's all it said, 'Come home'. If it had been anyone else, he would have asked why, what had happened, and about a thousand other questions, but it had been Sam.

And he knew what the Officer had to say even before he got to the house.

The first thing he did when he finally did get home was found Sam. He was slumped in the very same kitchen Dean stood in now, sobbing at the table. The Officer had been waiting by the door and followed after Dean into the kitchen. She set a calm hand on his shoulder, which made him turn to her, his eyes already swelling.

"Dean… We found your father… We think it was a Semi that hit him… It was instantaneous… he didn't feel any pain…" There were bits and pieces Dean couldn't remember, and the parts that he did remember were what mattered. But what he noticed while the Officer spoke to him was that not once did she come right out and say it. Not once did she use the word '_dead'_.

Dean's hand reached back for the whiskey bottle and without any hesitation, he threw it.

His whole body seethed, his chest falling with rapid breaths while his fists balled at his sides. Whiskey and glass shards riddled the kitchen floor, where the bottle had landed, but he didn't pay it any mind.

"_YOU SON OF A BITCH_!" he screamed it, storming from the kitchen to the living room where he found a stack of books about several different conspiracy theories and he knocked them to the floor, grabbing one before it fell too, and he began to rip at it, tearing pages out as he growled, and groaned. He threw the book at the wall after it'd been torn in half and he leant down and lifted the coffee table by one end, and flipped it over.

He gasped and heaved, staring at the damage he'd done in his short rampage… then he slowly sank to his knees. His gasping turned to sobs and his growls became moans. He held his face in his hands as his body shook. This wasn't fair. None of it was fair.

Dean didn't go to college because he knew their family was hard up on cash and he knew how hard it would be to pay off a student loan, so he took up a job at Bobby's shop, fixing cars and whatever else needed to be done. He's worked there for almost his entire life, because he knew Bobby didn't want to hire any green horn. He never had a serious relationship because he knew there wouldn't be time for that for as much as he worked. He helped pay for Sam to get a place in Boise so he could attend college and not have to drive back and forth every single day for two hours, even though that meant Dean had to move into a dump of an apartment. He gave and gave and gave, all for the benefit of everyone around him, and this is what he gets.

What had he done, what sin had he committed to deserve this…

Soon, Dean pulled himself together, his hands falling away to lay on his thighs as he stared down at them. "Goddamn it…" he mumbled. He needed to get this mess cleaned up now, he didn't know how soon Sam was planning on getting here, but he was willing to bet he'd be here some time tomorrow evening. He didn't want Sammie seeing this.

He sighed, wiping his face with the back of his hand and sniffling away the snot. This wasn't Dean, and he needed to pull it together before Sam got here. God help him if Sam tries to talk to him about his _feelings_. That's the last thing he wants right now.

Dean stood slowly, wandering back to the kitchen, sighing as he saw what he'd come for all over the floor, "Oh yea. I threw that." He mocked himself, rolling his eyes in frustration. Now he needed to make another run to the liquor store.

He sighed, leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen as he ran his hand down his face. Maybe he didn't need it. Sam was coming soon, and he hoped he could pick him up out of this stupor of misery.

* * *

><p>Sorry this chapter is so short, but I needed to go ahead and introduce Dean now, because this chapter and the last chapter are linear. So, they're happening at about the same time.<p>

I'd also like to thank the few people who have left me some reviews, especially Maknatuna who gave my story their blessing ( ; u;) I highly suggest that you go and read their Destiel fics – while you wait for mine to update, of course :y.

**(BLD)**


	6. Chapter 6

"Castiel…Castiel, wake up." The voice came from the other side of his door, along with light tapping, just enough to rouse the light sleeper.

Castiel groaned, turning over in bed, burying his face further into his pillow while he pulled his blanket up further over his shoulders. "Okay. In a minute." He mumbled, though he didn't care whether or not whoever it was had heard him through the muffling pillows.

"C'mon, Castiel, don't make me sing."

Castiel's eyes went wide as he realized it was Lucifer on the other side of the door, and a sudden sickening feeling overwhelmed him, "And you know how much I love to sing~." Lucifer warned in a sing-song voice.

"No, no. That's unnecessary." Castiel quickly spoke up, sitting up out of bed and running a hand through his disheveled hair.

Lucifer chuckled on the other side of the door, "Alright. Come on down stairs, I'm about to start making breakfast."

Castiel's brow furrowed, "Wait…" he stood up and opened his door, poking his head out, "You're about to _start_?" he asked skeptically. Usually Lucifer is waking him up when it's done, or about to be done.

Lucifer turned back, looking at Castiel like he'd spoken a different language. "Um, yea. I figured you'd like to help out." He told him with a soft smile. Castiel smiled back then, "Alright." He answered. He stepped back into his room and quickly began to dress. If Castiel seemed excited, it's because he was. Usually Lucifer lets Gabriel help out with the cooking when he needs it. It was a rare treat to work in the kitchen with Lucifer, so he always jumped at the opportunity.

He was sure Lucifer was getting back at Gabriel for last night, but he didn't let that get in the way of his excitement.

Once he'd thrown on an acceptable outfit, he went back to his luggage and found his toiletries bag. He opened it and promptly sighed. Sitting on top of everything else in the bag was an empty bag of his caramel chews. He grabbed the plastic and threw it away in the small bin by his desk. He then grabbed out his toothbrush and toothpaste. He'd make quick work of his morning routine before he came downstairs to help.

* * *

><p>As Castiel made his way to the kitchen, he could smell the beginnings of what he hoped were blueberry pancakes. He grinned, making his way a bit more quickly to the kitchen. He was greeted with the sight of ingredients and pots and pans pulled from the ceiling rack.<p>

Lucifer looked up from his mixing bowl, smirking, "Took you long enough, Sleeping Beauty." He mumbled, continuing to stir without looking.

Castiel chuckled, though not because of Lucifer's remark, more out of his sheer greediness. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, stepping up to the island and looking over the packages and produce bags.

Lucifer grinned, "See, it's that enthusiasm that Gabriel lacks." He pointed out with amused eyes. He then set down his bowl and grabbed out a glass measuring cup. "Here," he handed it to Castiel, then motioned with a snap of his fingers and a gesture to his side, "Come over here and start cracking some eggs in there." He told his brother.

Castiel was quick to do as he was told, and made his way beside his brother where he opened the carton of eggs and began to crack a few into the measuring cup. He assumed this would be the egg mixture base for omelets. Once he'd cracked three into the cup, Lucifer stopped him, "Yea, that'll do. Now find a whisk and give a good mix." He told him, still stirring out clumps in the pancake batter.

"Each time I pour this cup out on the frying pan, I want you to fill it again with three eggs." He instructed, a eye critical eye on Castiel's mixing job.

"Alright." Castiel acknowledged. Though he rarely strayed from basic meals that were simple, and simply made, Castiel still loved his brother's gourmet cooking. But, it was only when he came to visit that he ate home cooked meals like this. Meals of this size and caliber usually needed a lot of time and effort put into them. And when Castiel wakes in the morning, it's a miracle if he can even make a mug of coffee without falling asleep.

Speaking of which, "Did you make any coffee?" Castiel asked, though as he looked behind him at the coffee machine he saw it empty.

Lucifer scoffed, "Please. You get your coffee _after_ we're done." Lucifer responded, sending a very authoritive glance to his brother.

Castiel sighed, slowly nodding his head, "I see." Was his only reply. He figured it was Lucifer's strict French training that gave him this mentality.

As Lucifer began to set up the pan he would use to cook the omelets, he gave Castiel instructions on how to cut the bell peppers, onions, and tomatoes they'd be putting in omelets. It was as Castiel finished with the tomatoes that his brows furrowed. "How do you know what everyone wants on their omelets?"

Lucifer chuckled, "Well, after cooking for everyone for so long, you just start to retain things." He answered, and then reached around Castiel to grab the glass measuring cup of egg. "I know what everyone likes." He informed, "It comes with the territory." He concluded as he poured the egg into the pan. The mixture hissed and sizzled for a moment until it died down. Then, before Lucifer did anything else, he looked as if he was about to say something else, but he stopped, turned and grabbed for a spatula.

"It's funny," he began again, "I almost called out for my sous-chef." He chuckled.

Castiel smirked, "Lilith, was it?" he asked, faintly remembering being introduced to Lucifer's second in command in his kitchen.

"Yea." Lucifer answered, "Poor girl. Took the job right out of culinary school." He shook his head solemnly.

Castiel chuckled, "Does she not like the way you run things?" he asked, referring to Lucifer's tight hold on his kitchen.

"Nope." Lucifer answered almost as soon as Castiel had gotten the question out. He then reached back to the cutting board and grabbed at vegetables to sprinkle into the open omelet. "She only took the job at my place because she has a giant crush on me." He then glanced over to Castiel, his eyes half lidded and apathetic as he ate a piece of tomato.

Castiel's eyes narrowed, "So you're in the same predicament that I'm in…" he stated.

Before Lucifer retorted to his comment, he was handing back the glass measuring cup, "More eggs." He muttered then picked back up with, "Actually no. Your girlfriend doesn't realize her affections are unrequited. _Mine,_ on the other hand, knows all too well." He grinned, turning back to the omelet.

Castiel's brows furrowed further, "Really?" he asked, cracking more eggs to go into the glass measuring cup.

Lucifer chuckled, "It's not like she just found out somehow. I told her." He admitted, unfazed. "She was getting really flirty one day and I had to nip that in the bud." He mumbled as he flipped one side of the omelet to lay over the other, trapping the ingredients inside.

Castiel grimaced. "How do you make it seem so easy…" he mumbled, cracking another egg a moment later.

"Well, you could always just tell the truth." He mumbled, Lucifer's brows raising as he leaned the pan to one side, the omelet sliding onto a ready plate.

Castiel sighed, his eyes closing for a moment, "It's not that simple." He replied, picking up the whisk a moment later.

"Sure it is. Just go up to her one day," Lucifer let the spatula set on the counter as he sauntered over to his brother, making a show of trying to be seductive, "Put an arm around her," he mumbled as he slunk an arm around his brother's shoulders unceremoniously then he began to fiddle with the whisk Castiel had let sit in the measuring cup as he held it. "And you talk real sweet to her." He mumbled before his voice turned a bit more high pitched and gravely, mocking Castiel's voice.

"Hey Rachel. What's up?" he growled it, making Castiel scrunch his shoulders to keep Lucifer's face from getting any closer to his, eyes bugging with irritation as he stared off at nothing.

"Ya'know, I've been meaning to tell you something, something I've wanted to tell you since the first moment I met you." Lucifer kept up the charade, even as Castiel began to grab at his arm and hopefully pull it from around his shoulders.

"It's just so hard for me to show you my emotions…But," he sighed, dramatically, pulling Castiel closer by his shoulders where he whispered in his ear playfully. "_I'm gay_." The whisper could barely even be called such with the way Lucifer had whisper-shouted it.

"Thank you for the advice, now please get off me." Castiel groaned, trying to back out of his arms, but Lucifer only followed.

"Hey, it worked for me." Lucifer swore, then he finally let his brother free, going back to the stove.

Castiel's brows wrinkled as he continued to whisk, "You told her you were gay?"

"No, just that I'd rather be gay than be with her." He responded, sounding hardly enthused.

Castiel grinned, "No you didn't." he accused, and then set the egg mixture on the counter beside Lucifer.

Lucifer chuckled, his head falling back for a moment, his eyes closed, "Well aren't you just the cutest little detective…" he joked, glancing back at his younger brother with a smirk.

The two brothers picked up their pace thereafter, and worked on breakfast with more vigor. Lucifer made quick work of the omelets, simultaneously cooking bacon on another stove eye and even maintained pancakes on a griddle that sat on the island behind him. Castiel had to hand it to Lucifer, he was truly in his element in the kitchen. He made cooking look like an art form, and all the while, he barely broke a sweat.

Once he'd scrapped and flipped the last pancake on the plate that held many others he spoke to Castiel, "Alright, why don't you start getting everyone up? I'll set the table." He told him, already carrying the plate of pancakes and a glass jar of syrup to the table in the kitchen. Breakfasts and lunches were usually eaten in the kitchen, while dinners were eaten in the dining room.

"I'm on it." Castiel called back, quickly wiping his hands on a rag before he took off for the stairs.

He first went for Gabriel and Kali's shared room, at the top of the right set of stairs and one room over to the right. It was technically a guest room, but Kali didn't like the color of Gabriel's old room, and she claimed it smelt like stale sweets and gym shorts. Castiel was certain she only said those things so they could move into a room with a bigger bed. As he approached their door, he sighed, gaining his breath for a moment from the climb up the tall stairs. He then reached a hand up to knock-

But before he could he heard distinctive giggles and chuckles coming from the other side.

"Uhh…" he gave a few knocks anyway, "Breakfast is ready." He told them, not sure if they heard him, but he wasn't going to stick around for any confirmation. Quickly, he went back down stairs and headed for the rooms in the back of the house, going past the den and went for the room in the very back. He huffed, taking another few breaths as he knocked on Michael's door. "Breakfast is ready."

There was some shuffling and shifting and then Castiel heard a yawn, "Alright." Was Michael's acknowledgement, warped by the yawn.

Castiel grinned as he left Michael to his morning rituals. It was as he was emerging from the hall leading to the back rooms, when he was about to make it through to the foyer, that he caught a glimpse inside his father's room. Lucifer was creeping out, quietly shutting the door behind him, his eyes to the ground as he leaned his back up against it.

The two of them didn't move, didn't speak for what seemed like hours, but Castiel worked up the urge to at least call to him, "Lucifer…"

His older brother looked up then, his piercing blue eyes boring into him as he didn't make a sound.

"How… was he?" it seemed like such a dumb question, but Castiel hadn't been allowed to see him since he got here. He wanted, no, _needed_ to know.

Lucifer stood up off the door then, and without a word, he turned back to the door and opened it gently, then looked behind himself and gestured with one finger over his lips to keep quiet. Castiel nodded once and slowly made his way over to Lucifer. Now, standing beside Lucifer, he peered into the large room, where minimal light was allowed, and he could see bright pin-points of red light, of the machines, and the hissing a whirring that was bound to drive anyone mad. But in the middle of all these machines, laying in the center of the bed that now seemed so huge compared to its contents, sat his father.

Castiel's breath stuttered in his throat.

He looked so small, so withered, and his features now gaunt. What had happened to the strong man he knew? Where had he gone? Slowly, a hand made its way to Castiel's shoulder, trying to soothe him. Castiel bit his lip, trying to keep a hold on his emotions. He didn't want to break down, not in front of his brother again. Soon, though, Castiel had to step back, out of the room and out of Lucifer's grasp. It was only a few steps away, but it was enough space to ease the welling agony he felt forming just behind his ribs.

Lucifer looked to Castiel, the slightest bit of concern leaking through his mask of indifference. Castiel only held a hand up to Lucifer, his eyes closing as he took a few long breaths. He needed to hold it together. Everyone was about to be coming together in the kitchen for breakfast.

"Do you think he'll wake today?" he asked in a hushed voice.

Lucifer stepped out of the door frame and quietly closed it, then stepped up beside Castiel so they could speak, "The nurse says there's a high possibility." He sighed, his arms folding across his chest before he continued. "But every night, there's also the possibility that he doesn't wake up, or he goes into a coma…" he shook his head, his right hand reaching up to pinch at the bridge of his nose.

"The doctors are saying it'll be a miracle if he makes it to Thanksgiving." Lucifer spoke solemnly. His bright blue eyes flicked back open then, looking directly to Castiel, "But that's what we're aiming for. We need to set milestones, and every time Dad is awake, we have to encourage him and keep his spirits high."

Castiel couldn't keep his eyes held to Lucifer's, and he looked off to the side, "And then after Thanksgiving?"

Lucifer set a heavy hand on Castiel's shoulder, "Then we need to let go."

Castiel's eyes shut tight then, and he bit hard onto his bottom lip, trying to keep it from quivering, trying to stop the ache in the back of his throat that warned him of the coming tears. But as soon as Lucifer leant forward to hug him, it was all over. Castiel meekly set his hands on Lucifer's sides, softly weeping into his brother's shoulder.

"Shh, shhh, shhh…" Lucifer soothed Castiel, gently rocking them side to side, as if trying to coax a baby back to sleep, "Don't worry, Castiel, we still have him now." He ran a hand through his brother's dark hair, "He's still here with us."

If Castiel had been in the condition to listen and analyze what he'd heard, he might have noticed how Lucifer's words came out broken and half-hearted.

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><p>More brotherly love that I know you all so adore. Poor Lucifer I hate doing this to the babies, but I promise it gets better.<p>

**(BLD)**


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry about the lateness of this chapter, there were so many things going on this week and I couldn't take the time to sit down and write most the time. I was actually supposed to get this submitted hopefully by Monday, but I lost my notebook that I had written down all the relationship info on, and I didn't find it until Tuesday, and from that point onward I was just too busy to write. Sorry about that.

**(BLD)**

It was a miracle no one had asked questions during breakfast. Castiel had remained relatively silent all throughout, eating his omelet despite his emotional turmoil. The others were chatting and making light conversation, all of which seemed to be about the upcoming holiday. It seemed Lucifer was wearing his public face well, because Castiel was more than certain Lucifer had been hit hard a moment ago. He talked about his preparations for the turkey with vigor.

Castiel calmly glanced over to his brother, taking a sip from his glass of orange juice. He didn't want to stay mute for all of breakfast, though. "Who all are we expecting to come for Thanksgiving?"

That question got everyone's attention, and all eyes turned on Castiel. Apparently everyone had noticed how Castiel hadn't been talking.

"Uh," Gabriel fiddled with his fork, most of his pancakes eaten, and now the teeth slipped through the puddles of syrup left over, "I think most everyone will try and come." Then his eyes lifted to stare at his brother, searching for a reaction.

Shit.

He hated it when the whole family came. Now, don't get him wrong, he loves seeing all his cousins, and his aunt, but when it came to his uncle… He'd prefer not to be around. Usually, his aunt didn't accuse him of betraying his family like a certain uncle did. But when his aunt and uncle got together, and if the slightest hint of Castiel got into the conversation, it would turn to how '_disrespectful'_ he's been, and how his father needed to set him straight.

He blamed most of it on his Uncle Metatron. That man had some serious issues, and it was no wonder his cousin Gadreel turned out the way he did.

Funny thing is, it was his Uncle Metatron who encouraged Castiel, who told him that his writing was good enough to get published, and that he should move away if he ever wanted to make a name for himself. It was the very same Uncle who, while Castiel was gone, told his father that Castiel did it because he'd felt suffocated by his family. Of course, his father knew how much of a liar Metatron was, and he didn't believe him for a second.

Only, Metatron hadn't been too far from the truth.

Castiel gripped both hands around his glass, his thumb brushing over the smooth surface for a moment before he spoke, "Good."

His brother's all shared a glance with one another, "Are you sure you're okay with that?" Lucifer asked. "We could always tell everyone we want to be alone this year-" "No, no. If what you say is true, then this will be the last holiday we'll have with father. We can't keep his siblings away like that." Castiel told the whole table. He didn't care how Gabriel was seeing right through him with his skeptical eyes. He was never very good at his public face, but he needed to say something. He also wanted them all to come so he could set some things straight. He wasn't going to let his uncle dictate the way he lived his life.

Everyone at the table took this as an acceptable answer and continued with their breakfast. Afterwards, Castiel and Michael cleared off the table, taking plates and bowls to the sink where Gabriel was tasked with cleaning them.

"You know, we have a dish washer, right?" Gabriel glanced over to Lucifer, begrudgingly filling the sink with hot, soapy water.

Lucifer grinned, "Yep. That's you." He snickered, poking Gabriel's nose, but then quickly had to pull his finger away because Gabriel made to bite at his finger.

"Are you still mad about the brownies?" Gabriel asked, his brows furrowed sharply.

Lucifer glanced back at his brother from where he was putting ingredients back in the fridge, his expression dull, "Maybe."

"Oh my God…" Gabriel rolled his eyes, submerging his hands in the water to start scrubbing at dishes. It was suddenly apparent this was a punishment.

Castiel only shook his head with a slight smile, putting more dishes in the sink that held the others. Gabriel sent a pleading look to his brother which was promptly ignored. "I would be more inclined to help…" He spoke, grabbing a paper towel to wipe his fingers, "But I'm kind of cranky because someone ate all my caramel chews." And he quickly sent an accusing look to Gabriel who promptly grinned, looking down at the dishes, "Ouch…" was all he answered with as he began to wash the dishes in earnest.

As the siblings dispersed, all except Gabriel, Castiel wondered what he'd do today. Besides waiting for his father to wake, he wasn't sure what else there was for him to do. His hands were shoved in the deep pockets of his casual blue jeans as he slowly paced in the foyer. Eventually, it was Michael who got his attention.

"How are your pool skills?" he asked, leaned against the railing of the left hand staircase.

Castiel scoffed, "Just as bad as when I left." He admitted. Though he was certain that no matter what game he played with his eldest brother he'd surely lose, it was a well needed distraction for the time being.

Michael smirked, "Then I think it's about time I showed you the ropes." He told him, stepping up and setting a hand to Castiel's shoulder to guide him into the den. As they walked down the hall, passing by vintage metal advertisements for things like Coke and Star Cigarettes, Castiel is reminded of all the times Castiel played with his brothers. Though, he and his brothers weren't the most normal children, it was still fun to be taught Pool, and Dart throwing. As the years passed, he and his brothers had come to be known as experts, though Castiel had never quite gotten to _their_ level, he understood the game and won at least 60 percent of his games.

"Do you remember the things we showed you from before?" his brother asked as they approached the red felted table.

"Of course." Castiel responded.

"Good. Now we're going to expand on that." Michael explained and he quickly grabbed up the pool stick that had been laying across the table then handed it to Castiel. "I'm going to teach you how to actually _aim_ now."

Castiel chuckled, then watched as Michael set up the table, filling the triangle with the pool balls and fixing the order. "Alright."

Once Michael had aligned the triangle correctly, he gingerly picked it up and set it out of the way on the small short table by the rack of pool sticks on the wall. "First," Michael began, and walked around the table to stand beside Castiel, "You're going to break."

Many hours were spent with Michael teaching Castiel the correct way to play, how to call his shots and how to actually sink his shots. Castiel had gotten used to it enough that Michael eventually picked up his own stick and they began to play rounds together. Lucifer had wandered in for a few minutes, watching, giving pointers and then left to retrieve them something to drink and watched for a bit longer until the lunch hour rolled around.

Lucifer sat, looking down at his phone, silent ruminating played over his face.

"I don't think you should go to work." Michael mumbled as he took a shot at the 3 to the corner pocket. Even before it sunk in, Michael was already heading over to his spot to lean against the wall.

Lucifer's eyes glanced up from the phone for a second before looking back down and texting something.

"I guess Lilith will have fun being in charge for a little longer." He mumbled under his breath, a small sigh escaping afterward. "I'm gonna have to send one of you in to do some spying though."

Michael chuckled, "You don't trust her?" he asked, keeping a close eye on how Castiel took his next shot.

"It's not that I don't trust her. It's just…" Lucifer paused, reaching up and squeezing at the back of his neck, "If I'm not there I can't pick out her inconsistencies." He mumbled, glaring at nothing for a moment.

"Well, I can't go." Michael declared, "They'd recognize me and I know you want me to be served with no bias."

After Castiel missed his shot, the youngest brother sighing to himself and closing his eyes for one frustrated moment, Michael stepped up and quickly took aim, leaned down, and took his shot, landing his shot in the side pocket.

"I think it would be best if Castiel went." He concluded after taking another lean on the wall.

Castiel was glaring down at the pool table, a death grip on his pool stick, so he'd barely noticed when he'd been mentioned in the conversation, "Wait, what?" he looked up, confused, glancing between his brothers.

Lucifer stood, "I want you to go have lunch at my place here soon. I need you to tell me how things are tasting." And once he'd walked up close enough to Castiel he patted him once on the back, "My treat, of course." He grinned.

Castiel's brows furrowed, "Alone?"

Lucifer and Michael both chuckled, "Unless you plan on inviting someone." Lucifer suggested. Then a very wicked, evil grin tugged at Lucifer's lips, "Maybe you should give Rachel-" "_Lucifer_…" Castiel warned before Lucifer could finish the thought.

Lucifer all out laughed, letting go of his brother and heading back to his chair, where he took a sip from his drink. "Fine, fine. I'm only teasing." He said, looking back to Castiel with a wink.

Castiel rolled his eyes, "Whatever," he mumbled, "I don't mind going, but it would look weird if I'm going alone." He muttered, taking aim for his next shot.

Michael looked to Lucifer, "He has a point. How often do you get single customers in there?"

Lucifer snorted, "Okay, maybe you should go get a friend in town and get them to go with you." He resolved. "Don't you have some friends in town?"

Castiel took his shot, but only managed to strike another ball, sending it to hit against the wall and nudged one of Michael's balls closer to a pocket. He sighed, stepping away from the table.

"Actually…" Castiel thought back to the last people he talked to before he graduated high school. His brows furrowed deeply, "I don't remember having any actual friends." He told them. He then looked up to his brothers, "I had all of you, and I was content." He told them.

Michael and Lucifer looked to each other, one more worried than the other. "Well that's flattering and all… But you didn't have any friends, Castiel?" Lucifer asked, stepping down from the high standing chair.

Castiel shook his head minutely, "No. There was never anyone who was interested in what I was interested in unless it was a teacher." He then looked up to Lucifer, "And teachers don't count, do they?"

Lucifer gave a small chuckle, "No. They're paid to listen to you." He then turned back to the table and grabbed his glass, half filled with bourbon. "But I can't say that I'm surprised." He took a drink from his glass then turned back to Castiel, "I don't remember you ever talking about anyone from school."

"Then again, there was never anyone from that school to talk about." Gabriel mumbled as he joined the rest of his brothers in the den. "Kali is out making a run to The Cloud. She'll be back soon." He told the others, like it was a question on the tip of everyone's tongue. She wrote reviews for hot and trending restaurants, from their little corner of Idaho, to Nevada and Oregon. The paper she wrote for, The Cloud, was New Haven's number one selling paper. He took a seat in the opposite chair from Lucifer's, "That prep school was for the bland high society kids. Don't know why _we_ were sent there." Gabriel complained.

"First of all, it was better than public school." Lucifer pointed out, making Gabriel give a nod in agreement, "Second, its family tradition to attend New Haven Prep, since like what," Lucifer turned to Michael, "The 1930's or something?"

"1937." Michael provided, taking a sip of his own drink. "Autmans have been going to New Haven prep since 1937." He explained.

"Tell me, Gabriel, what kind of reaction Dad would've had if you'd have dropped out." Lucifer challenged, one hand at his hip.

Gabriel rolled his eyes, "Whatever. It was just so boring at that damn school."

"And that's why you spent most your time pulling fire alarms and sneaking into the lunchroom kitchen." Castiel presumed.

Lucifer and Gabriel both cracked up, "Yea, and the staff kept a close eye on me _and_ you." Gabriel managed to say through chuckles, "They were so worried you'd try and pull something like your brother."

While Castiel entered the prep school his freshman year, Gabriel had already wreaked havoc for his freshman, sophomore, and junior year. During Gabriel's senior year, he spent a lot of it following Castiel around and trying to embarrass him as much as possible in front of his classmates.

Like the time Gabriel made faces to Castiel through the small pane of glass on the door until he got his younger brother in trouble for laughing in the middle of a lesson. Or when they'd have lunch together, and even though Gabriel offered Castiel a seat at his table with his friends, Castiel sat alone, so Gabriel would always make sure to sneak Castiel an extra pudding or cookie from the lunch line even though everyone is only supposed to get one.

Then Castiel realized that last one wasn't actually Gabriel trying to embarrass him. He guessed it was Gabriel trying to do something nice for him because he felt bad that he sat alone. It wasn't his fault that a lunch lady would usually come to Castiel's table and take back what Gabriel had stolen.

It made him smile anyway, because sometimes the lunch lady would forget and he'd have an extra treat.

He was about to tell Gabriel about it, because he's certain he never knew, but before he could make a sound-

"Excuse me, sirs…" The nurse stood by the doorway, a hand on the door frame and her other balled to her side. She looked a bit out of breath, like she'd ran to speak to them. And everyone goes quiet.

"Yes, Hannah?" Michael speaks up, quickly setting his pool stick down on the table and stepping up to Hannah, concern etched deeply on his features.

She takes a calming breath before continuing, "Your father is awake."


	8. Chapter 8

Hey! I forgot to say happy late Thanksgiving in my last update. So, Happy -late- Thanksgiving!

**(BLD)**

As expected, it didn't take long for Sam to show up at the doorstep. In fact, Dean was fairly certain he was early.

"Sammy." Dean greeted his brother with a wide grin, ignoring how his arms were full of luggage and came up and hugged him. Sam groaned, dropping the baggage with a thud to hug his brother back. "Good to see you too, Dean." Sam chuckled, patting his brother's back.

After the brother's reunion, Dean took up the two bags of luggage on the porch and took them inside as Sam went out to his vehicle in the driveway to get the rest. Once they were both inside, Sam sighed, setting the last bit by the couch.

"I think you might've set a record, Sam." Dean muttered, leaning against the railing of the staircase in the living room with his arms crossed.

Sam chuckled, "Yea, I kind of started packing as soon as we got off the phone last night." He admitted.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Of course." He looked to his brother, shaking his head for a moment as he gave him a once over. "Have you eaten yet?" he asked, a brow raising questioningly.

Sam shrugged, "I could eat." He offered. He wasn't going to tell Dean that he hasn't eaten since yesterday, and that he was starving, because then he'd get a scolding. It was funny how Dean kept telling Sam he'd never grow up to be like Dad, but he proved himself wrong every day. It was very Dad-like with how he scolded him, and how he thought all his problems were his own to fix. He was _already_ too much like their Dad.

Dean grinned, "Good." And he fell from his lean against the stair railing and headed through the living room to the kitchen, "I made burgers." He told Sam over his shoulder. He was only one second away from picking up fast-food when he thought better on it and decided to make them himself.

"Awesome." Sam mumbled, walking close behind his brother, mouth already watering.

There was a plate staked with four grilled beef patties, a plate with chopped tomato, lettuce, and onions and a whole jar of spear pickles. The brothers got down to making their burgers, conversation scarce while hunger commandeered their attention and focus. Sam had just put the finishing touches on his own burger, taking a seat at the kitchen table with a sigh when his phone began to ring.

"Shit…" he mumbled, quickly fishing in his pocket for his phone, "Hello?" he answered once he'd gotten it to his ear.

"Oh, hey Ruby." Sam sat back in his chair, his shoulders drooping as he stared longingly at his burger.

Dean gave a silent chuckle, coming over and sitting across from Sam.

"Yea, I made it here fine… Like, 15 minutes, why?...Oh my God, Ruby, I'm sorry I didn't call as soon as I hit the brakes, damn…" Sam ran a frustrated hand through his hair, ignoring the whipping sounds Dean was making to mock him. He turned in his chair, away from Dean, "No, all I'm saying is I just got here. Me and Dean made burgers and I'm about to eat… I guess when I got done eating…" Sam groaned, his head falling in his hand, "Ruby, please…"

Dean only feels slightly bad for Sam, and it doesn't hurt at all as he takes a bite out of his burger. First of all, he'd told Sam Ruby was crazy from the get-go, and did he listen? No. Now that there's trouble in paradise Dean is doing all he can to rub it in his face.

He understood that after Jessica Sam needed some time, but he didn't think that meant he needed time away from good girls. If he'd been aiming to pick a girl that was the complete opposite of Jessica, he'd found a winner. Dean glanced up from his plate at Sam, eating silently as he continued to listen in on Sam's half of the conversation. Though if he listened hard enough he could make out what Ruby was screaming on the other end.

"Yes, fine… Okay. Tonight, before I close my eyes to sleep, okay Ruby…? Jesus." And he pulled the phone away from his ear and hung up. "I swear to God, Dean." He groaned, shaking his head as he put his phone away.

Dean only raised a brow, "I tried to warn you." He told him, taking another bite out of his burger.

"Yea, you did. And can you please stop bringing it up?" he pleaded, and finally, he picked up his burger and began to eat. He closed his eyes with a sigh that came through his nose, enjoying the simple pleasure of eating.

Dean chuckled, "No can do, Sammy." And then smirked to Sam after he groaned again.

"Also, she knows you just lost your Dad, right? Why the hell is she being so bitchy, now of all times…" Dean asked, now becoming defensive for his brother.

Sam sighed, "Of course she knows, she just… She lost a second cousin a month ago, and she's using it as an excuse to make me feel bad for her." Sam finally admitted, running his hand down his face.

Dean's eyes narrowed, "So her _second cousin_ dies, a _month_ ago, and she thinks _she_ needs more comfort than _you_ right now?" Dean scoffed, "I bet she hardly knew her damn _second cousin_." He grumbled as he continued to eat, taking harsher bites than necessary into his burger.

"Yea…" Sam agreed, but because he had nothing to say in defense of his girlfriend, the only thing else he could say was, "Yea…" he repeated with a sigh.

The two brothers ate, talking about how things have been in New Haven, how Sam's classes have been and anything other than the elephant in the room. It's not that they needed to talk about it, though. Sam knew what he came here to do, and Dean knew what he needed to do, and they'd get it done. Because Sam knew talking about a plan of attack on tackling this debt would be like shoving the fact that Dean had failed right in his face.

So, they didn't talk about it. At least not yet. But Sam knew it had to come at some point, whether Dean was ready to admit he needed the help or not, and whether he realized he wasn't a failure for needing it or not.

As Dean put their dirty dishes away in the sink to be cleaned, he yawned. He hadn't got much sleep the other night, and he'd been working most the day at Bobby's, so he was still pretty exhausted. He thought about taking a nap after Sam arrived, but decided against it, and instead told himself he could go to bed early tonight. He was sure he'd get a raised eyebrow from Sam, but he'd let him speculate.

"Did you have any plans today?" Sam suddenly asked, walking over beside Dean before he hopped up and sat on the counter beside the sink.

Dean turned the faucet on and squirted some soap in his hands from the nearby dispenser, "Actually, I was thinking about going to the store. You can come along if you want." He suggested as he washed his hands.

Sam shrugged, "Alright. It gives me a chance to look for some applications." He reasoned.

Dean's hands paused for a moment, "Right…" he mumbled. A moment later he went back to scrubbing his hands together. The thought of Sam looking for a job for Dean's sake didn't sit right with him. It made him feel even more worthless as an older brother.

He gave a near silent sigh, turning off the water and reaching for the cloth that Sam now sat on. Without asking him to move, he grabbed it and yanked it out from underneath his brother, making him jolt in surprise, "I would've moved!" he complained, punching Dean's arm in retribution.

Dean only chuckled, taking the punch good naturedly as he dried his hands with a grin.

Dean went upstairs to quickly grab a jacket and his keys and came back down, "You ready Sammy?" he shouted through the house, and it didn't take long for his brother to saddle up next to him so they could leave out.

Sam made sure to lock the door behind him as they exited, "Been having any problems with the house?" he asked, knowing the house wasn't in the best shape since their father let it start falling apart.

Dean shrugged, quickly descending down the short front steps, "It leaks and creaks. Nothing much." He then glanced back at the house, "Needs a paint job, though." He mentioned, noticing all the chipped paint. "And at some point the shower curtains in the bathrooms need to be changed. Most of them are ripped and faded."

He then stopped completely, Sam almost bumping into his back with how closely he was walking behind him, "And for some reason, the downstairs guestroom smells mildew-y."

Sam rolled his eyes, "So there's a fair amount of problems to deal with." He reasoned, walking around Dean to get to the passenger side of Dean's Impala.

Dean shrugged again, "Yea." He agreed with a sigh, unlocking his door and hopping in.

The drive to the grocery store was short, though the drive anywhere was short when you lived nearly in the center of town. Their neighborhood was one of the oldest in town, and the house itself was 50 years old, and had only been remodeled once. Their house, and the ones around it all matched in architecture, and it so happened to be one of the safest neighborhoods in New Haven.

As they pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store, Dean narrowed his eyes to search for a spot. It was midday, and that was usually the store's busiest time.

"Over there." Sam pointed out an open spot, and Dean was quick to nab it.

As soon as they both emerged from the Impala, Dean pointed a finger at Sam, "Now we're only here to get what I have on the list. So don't go running around and getting all those sugary cereals." He scolded Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes, swatting the pointed finger out of his face, "Shut up, Jerk." He chuckled.

Before Sam got out of range, Dean lifted his foot and kicked the flat side of it against Sam's butt, making him stumble only slightly, "Bitch." He retorted.

The both of them chuckled, walking up to the store. There were a lot of reasons Sam being back was a good thing. But the one most gleaming was how Sam didn't make Dean feel like shit when he was around.

"Okay," Dean tore the piece of paper he brought out of his jacket in half and handed one piece to Sam, "You get all that crap, I'll get all this crap." He told him. They exchanged a quick nod and dispersed within the store, heading off to gather what was on their pieces of paper.

There wasn't much to get, mostly essentials like bread milk and eggs and then the specific things he needed for tonight's dinner. Dean didn't keep too many things in the house in the way of fresh ingredients, mostly because he ate fast-food on the regular. It meant Dean had less work to do and less to clean up afterwards. Though, that also meant an unhealthy lifestyle that had Dean belly aching every other day.

Dean eventually had to circle back to the entrance though, after he realized he couldn't carry all the items he needed in his hands alone and even though it made him annoyed, he picked up a grocery basket. It would be a hassle to push around a full blown cart, and the basket was more convenient.

Dean glared down at the basket, "This thing makes me look stupid." He grumbled to himself. He glanced around before he went down the canned goods isle, weary of anyone seeing him carry it around. He went back for the cans he needed, quickly dropping them in before he made a break for the next isle.

"Hey, nice basket." But Sam had caught up with him before he could round the corner.

Dean sighed, "Shut up." then turned around but then frowned, "Hey, you got one too!" he accused. Sam was carrying around the same kind of basket as Dean, filled with fruits and vegetables. Sam only chuckled.

"But you look dumber than I do with it." He laughed.

"Whatever." Dean grumbled, rolling his eyes. "Did you get everything?" he asked, peering inside Sam's basket, but Sam yanked his basket away, just to annoy Dean, "Yea, I got it all. You?" he asked, shoving a hand in his pocket.

"Just a few more things." He told him after he gave him a halfhearted glare, and then glanced back at the shelves and after browsing another few moments he grabbed up a can of black beans to put in the basket with the other many cans of various beans.

Sam's brows furrowed as he looked into Dean's basket and the can he put in with it. "Why are you getting so many beans?"

"You haven't guessed by now?" Dean smirked, "I'm makin chili!" he cackled.

"Oh God…" Sam sighed, "Please don't say you're making that hot as hell pot of lava you call chili?"

Dean only laughed harder.


	9. Chapter 9

Each brother filed into the bedroom, one at a time, slowly and quietly as to not disrupt their father. The man sat up, only slightly until Hannah urged him to lay back down properly. He resigned, nodding his head tiredly as he lay back out.

Castiel had wanted to call out to him, say something, even if it was just a simple greeting, but words were frozen in his mouth. He swallowed to try and alleviate the dryness in his throat, but it hardly worked. His father's once dark hair was mostly white now, half falling out in clumps. His vibrant blue eyes were now almost vacant, gray. The facial hair that grew over his chin was thin, and short. His skin was like paper stretched over bone, the tone manila at its darkest.

Michael managed to break from the pack first, "Dad…?" he spoke softly, walking up to his father's bed with a practiced motion, as to not create noise or sudden vibrations.

Their father gave the best smile he could in his condition, a twitch of his lips that was merely a shadow of its past warmth and width. It was all the sons needed to shuffle closer, Lucifer going to the opposite side of his father's bed and kneeling down, his arms folding across the blankets. Gabriel took a seat on the corner of the bed, closest to Lucifer. Castiel wasn't sure where he should go, awkwardly shuffling at the foot of the bed, but then their father gave a gruff hoarse noise that might have been a chuckle, and Castiel watched as he patted on his bed, opposite Lucifer's position.

Castiel smiled shyly, coming up quickly to his father's other side and taking a soft seat on the edge of his father's bed, almost sitting on the pillows. His father then reached up and set a hand over Castiel's, where it sat on the comforter.

"It's good to see you, my son." Their farther spoke to him, his voice rusty. Castiel would smile… but there was so much about his father that had changed, so much that would never be the same…

"Castiel…" their father shook his son's hand slightly, gaining his attention from where his mind had wandered so far, "I don't want to see any grim faces." He told him in what meant to be a scolding manner, his eyes cutting sharp to get his point across.

Castiel swallowed and nodded his head slightly, "Sorry…" he muttered, his eyes averting their hands. His father only gave him a gentle smile in return.

"How have you been?" he asked, his thumb slowly stroking across his son's hand. "What have you been up to in Seattle?"

Castiel finally managed to smile then, "I've been writing. I've gotten a few things published." He told him meekly. Even though his father had lost his strength and the boom in his voice, his father still managed to make him feel small when he talked. Though, now, it was for an entirely different reason.

Their father's eyes closed momentarily, a smile spreading across his thinning lips, "Good," his eyes opened again, "Good." He patted Castiel's hand then let it settle back over his hand gently.

He then turned his attention over to Gabriel, "Where is Kali?" he asked, genuine concern on his features as his brows furrowed, his gray eyes glancing around the room.

Castiel could tell it took all of his might for Gabriel to not roll his eyes, "She's out." He answered at first, then quickly tacked on, "She should be back any minute." He reassured him with a small smile.

Their father smiled back, "Good. I've been meaning to speak to her." He clarified. "How was the trip to get Castiel?" he then asked. Gabriel was clearly relieved when the conversation turned to him instead of his fiancé.

The next few minutes were spent with their father asking his son's questions, finding out how they've been since he's been asleep. The whole while, his father never took his hand off of Castiel's. It was both comforting and unnerving.

After Lucifer told their father about new menu items he'd be introducing for the winter months and how they would resemble traditional home style recipes, he began to cough. The sons all shared a look, all concerned. But their father continued to cough.

And cough.

And soon, Hannah was asking the four sons to please leave the room. Their father's coughs had begun to sound painful, and at the sight of blood trickling from the side of their father's mouth, it was time to administer a new dose of medication. Unfortunately, that meant their father would be knocked out for several more hours.

Before Castiel stood though, his father squeezed his hand, just enough to make Castiel look back down at him, and his father held his gaze, just for a moment, before his coughing made him curl forward, lurching.

Michael's hands were on Castiel's shoulders, guiding him up and away. It was only until Castiel was outside their father's door that he began to shake. He wasn't sure who it was this time, but more hands were put on him, guiding him to the stairs, but before they could start ascending, Castiel's knees gave out, and he might have hit the floor if not for all his brothers grabbing him to keep him steady. Castiel was on the verge of tears, and the last thing he expected was for Gabriel to start sobbing first. His brother held Castiel close by his torso, rubbing his face against his shoulder, trying to hide his tears.

Oddly enough, Gabriel's pain was enough to defuse some of Castiel's, and the only tears that fell were easily swept away by the back of his hand and he then quickly wrapped his arms around his weeping older brother. Michael sighed, rubbing both Castiel and Gabriel's backs, standing just before the steps, his back to them. Lucifer was hugging both his younger brothers, his chin resting on Castiel's head. He looked to Michael, worried, but all Michael could do was shake his head solemnly.

After their moment by the stairs, Castiel and Gabriel were escorted upstairs, where they both sat in Gabriel's room that he shared with Kali. The room was filled with the scents of Kali's perfumes and oils, and it could hardly be called Gabriel's room. It was almost awkward for Castiel to sit on their bed, but his mind was distracted with how Gabriel's head hung low, cradled in his hands, as he tried to pull himself together. It was odd how Castiel was so used to being the one comforted by his brothers and he'd never once thought how they were affected.

It was a shock to his system to be running his hand down Gabriel's back, soothingly.

Gabriel's face was hidden to him, but he could tell, by the intakes of his breath, that he was trying to say something. He mumbled something, but it was muffled by his hands.

"What was that?" Castiel asked softly, leaning closer to his brother to hear him speak.

Gabriel inhaled deeply, his hands simultaneously running down his face, his eyes blinking slowly. He then sighed, letting his hands fall to dangle between his knees, "I said I need to get out of here."

Castiel's brows furrowed, "What do you mean?" he asked, concerned that meant Gabriel would be leaving.

"I mean I need a drink." He mumbled, his voice flat. He then looked up to Castiel, his eyes slightly reddened, "I'm kidnapping you." He told him suddenly.

"Uhh…" Castiel sat back, away from his brother then, "Where are we going?" he asked, skeptical.

Gabriel sighed, his head falling again, "Just grab your coat." He told him before he stood. "I'm gonna call Kali, tell her I need some time alone." He mumbled as he pulled his own coat from off the chair in the corner.

Castiel stood, slowly, and then left to do as he was told. He wondered where Gabriel would be taking him, but he could take a guess.

Turns out, his guess was wrong. Gabriel's car pulled into the parking lot of a popular bar in town, ignoring all the confusion Castiel sent to him with his glances. Castiel had thought, maybe, they'd take a walk in the park that their mother would often take them. Or maybe go and see her grave. Anything, anything at all other than going to a bar. Somehow, though, Castiel couldn't really imagine Gabriel being comfortable with doing any of the other options. He guessed this one made the most sense.

Castiel sighed, stepping out of the car after they had parked. It looked like there was a decent amount of patrons inside from his observations through the window. It wasn't exactly busy, but there was a crowd.

The two stepped inside, and Castiel was relieved when the smell of smoke or booze didn't overwhelm him. He didn't often go to bars, and the few he had been to were awful, or too high class. Either case had made him highly uncomfortable, thus making him leave far too early. He supposed coming here with his brother wasn't all that bad.

Gabriel had a critical eye scouting out a place for them to sit, and soon, he was dragging Castiel over to the U shaped bar, the both of them sitting on the less crowded side. Gabriel took a seat on the high bar stool with a sigh, an almost grin on his lips.

"D'You know how nice it is to just come to a bar, sit down and have a drink without worrying about someone nagging you to come home soon?" he asked, looking over to Castiel with half lidded eyes. Though of course Castiel couldn't answer, he'd never had anyone to nag him, and he'd certainly never come to a bar by himself.

Instead, he shrugged, hoping that was an answer enough for him.

Gabriel chuckled, shaking his head slightly, then called over the attention of the bar tender. He ordered for the both of them, only asking for a beer, knowing Castiel didn't drink much, and perhaps it wasn't the drinks Gabriel had wanted to come for.

Gabriel sat in silence, staring at his bottle for the longest time, sweat dripping off and onto his fingers. Before he finally spoke, he took a deep inhale and sighed, "A couple of weeks before I got the news about Dad… Kali told me she had gone to the doctor." He rubbed his hand down his face, covering his eyes as he spoke the next part, not wanting to see Castiel's initial reaction.

"She said she told him how she'd been feeling irregular and how recently she had had an odd…" He paused a moment before continuing, "Period." He sighed, his eyes still covered by his hands.

"The doctor took some tests and came back and told her…" Gabriel finally let his hand fall, and Castiel saw how his eyes had turned reddened, and glassy.

"He said that she'd went through a miscarriage." He concluded, his voice a bit broken at the end.

Castiel's eyes went wide, a wide variety of emotions suddenly washing through him. As soon as the shock melted away, he was left feeling saddened. But then again, he distinctly remembered how Gabriel had said he'd never wanted children…

So why was he crying?

"Kali told me, and she laughed about it, said 'we dodged a bullet there'…" Gabriel turned his eyes to the bar top, not wanting to meet Castiel's gaze.

"I knew she didn't want children, but I couldn't help but to feel…" his face scrunched, his head slightly shaking as he tried to figure out the right way to word his emotions about it.

"Sad…" was what he eventually went with. "When you boiled it all down, Castiel, I was sad." He then finally looked up to his younger brother, his features set in a frown.

Castiel set a hand to Gabriel's back, "I'm sorry." He told him, rubbing his back soothingly.

Gabriel shook his head then, "Castiel, I don't know…" he looked to his beer, his thumb pressing hard into the glass, "I kept telling myself it was better this way, I would've been miserable with children, but I…" he began to shake his head again, "Things are just really messed up in my head right now. And with Dad…"

He set his hand to his forehead, his eyes closing, "All I can think about is how I wasn't able to give him a grandchild." He mumbled, his brows furrowed.

Castiel wilted, hating to hear how distressed his brother was. "Gabriel, he knew not to expect any from you, and after Michael lost Beth, we all knew it would be a while still until Michael had his own." He reassured him, "And Lucifer…" he paused, trying to explain his brother's situation.

"Is Lucifer…" Gabriel provided with a roll of his eyes.

"Exactly." Castiel replied, patting Gabriel's back. "So don't beat yourself up about that. I think Dad is just happy that you have someone." He told him. Honestly, he knew Gabriel wouldn't be able to handle children, and if he did ever have one, he was certain Gabriel would be miserable. But he supposed everyone went through a period of time where they feel their lives couldn't be fulfilled without them.

"You're just having one of those moments." He told Gabriel, vaguely.

Gabriel glanced over to Castiel, a small half smile curling the corner of his lip, "It's weird how you don't know what you're doing, and yet you're kind of making me feel better." He informed him.

Castiel's brows furrowed, "I know what I'm doing." He retorted. He may not be the one always comforting everyone, but he knew how to talk someone through a rough time. Of course, he supposed his brothers didn't know that, seeing as how he'd never had the opportunity to comfort them through a bad time, but he'd been great with helping his friend Chuck through his parent's divorce.

Gabriel chuckled, "Okay." He submitted, taking a drink from his beer.

Castiel set his eyes sternly to Gabriel, but eventually let it go, sighing, then followed behind Gabriel, taking a sip of his own drink.

The duration of their beer's lifespan was spent in relative silence, though it wasn't uncomfortable. There was a view of outside through the windows across from where they sat, and Castiel could see there were storm clouds forming, though he wasn't concerned.

It was as he took the last sip of his beer did he notice a man coming over and taking the unoccupied seat just one away from Castiel. He had only glanced at the man, once, acknowledging his presence before he was staring out the window again.

He wondered if anyone at home cared that they were out drinking in the afternoon. Then again, they were hardly drinking. He glanced through his peripheral at Gabriel and he saw he had no interest in ordering a second drink. He suspected they'd be leaving soon.

Just before he wanted to stand, he heard the man beside him speak up to the bartender, "Hey man, do you happen to have change for a twenty?"

Castiel glanced over, though he hadn't intended to see such a gorgeous man beside him. His dirty blond hair was styled methodically, looking to be a signature look of his, and his defined jaw line was something to admire. His voice alone was intoxicating, and for a moment, he just watched the man's face as he talked with the bartender.

Castiel quickly looked back down at his empty glass, his eyes slightly bugging. Had he just checked out that man? Why was he suddenly blushing?

Before he could answer his own questions, there was a hand slapping lightly on the bar, just to his left, and Castiel realized the man was trying to gain his attention.

Shit.

He turned to him, swallowing so he could speak if necessary.

"Hey, sorry to bother you, but do you have five ones? I only got fives from the bartender." He explained, four five dollar bills in his other hand as proof. One brow was arched over a set of beautifully green eyes, and Castiel was lucky he managed a "Sure."

Though he turned to his brother and was quickly worming a hand into his coat pocket and taking out his wallet, "Hey…" was the only protest he got from Gabriel who sat with his brows furrowed at him.

"I don't have any ones." He explained maybe a little too quickly.

He then turned back to the man who was now smiling just the smallest bit, amused. He pulled out five ones from Gabriel's wallet and handed them to the man.

He grinned, accepting the cash and handed back a five, "Thanks."

Castiel managed to smile back, though all he managed was another, "Sure."

The man chuckled, nodded once then stood and left from the bar. It surprised Castiel that he still felt it necessary to keep glancing back to watch the man leave. It wasn't until the man was completely gone that he realized he'd only said two words to him, which were both the same word…

He sighed, his eyes closing in embarrassment.

When he opened his eyes, he wasn't expecting Gabriel to be leaning his elbow on the bar, staring at him with a highly amused grin. "What was that?" he asked, his voice sing-song.

Castiel's face turned red again, and he only shook his head. Though, really, was he sure what that even was?

It had always been a running joke amongst the brothers that the reason Castiel never seemed to be interested in any woman was that he had to be gay. It was never a hurtful assumption, or a negative accusation, but then again Castiel had never really outright denied it. He'd roll his eyes, or tell them to quit it, but he'd never felt the need to tell them otherwise.

Like earlier today, when Lucifer had been joking around and had called Castiel gay… He wasn't even sure if he'd even made a comment on that.

There were many things that Castiel didn't understand, and one of them was definitely his own sexuality. He'd never given it much thought, other than how he wasn't really attracted to any certain girl, or woman. None of them had every really stuck out to him. Sure, most of them had been nice, and pretty, but it was never an urge of his to actively seek out any of them. And really, he'd never thought about looking at a man that way.

And then that happened.

"I don't know…" he finally told Gabriel with a furrowed brow.

Gabriel's grin spread wider, "Do you need another drink?" he asked, amusement tickling his words.

"Yes." Castiel answered simply. Maybe they'd be doing a bit more drinking than expected.

* * *

><p>Okay, I've never known a bartender to not have ones in the register, but for the sake of furthering the plot and getting us closer to Destiel, the bartender steals from the cash register.<p>

Only ones, though.

**(BLD)**


	10. Chapter 10

So, this update was original supposed to be uploaded on Christmas day, but guess what gift we received from our cable company? No cable or internet. e_e

Anyway, to sort of make up for that, from this Wednesday to the next, I'm going to try really hard to submit a new chapter each day, and even though they're going to be a little shorter than the others, I just wanted to make up for the lack of content. I hope you guys can understand.

**(BLD)**

They had been ready to check-out, heading to the entrance, when someone called out to them. "Winchesters?" they called, and it wasn't until Dean actually turned around that he recognized who it was.

"Pamela!" he called back, seeing the woman with a cart, half filled with groceries by the end of an aisle. She had been away on the east coast for the longest time, and it felt like he hadn't seen her in forever.

Dean came over and gave her a one armed hug, the basket in his other hand prohibiting him from giving her anything further. "How long have you been back?" he asked as they pulled away.

"Actually, I just got back today." She explained, then she came out from around her cart to go over to Sam herself and give him an even bigger hug than what she gave Dean. His brows sunk together only slightly to that, but he didn't spend too much time being hurt over it.

"I've missed you boys!" she exclaimed as she pulled back from her hug with Sam, the both of them smiling wide.

"How was your trip?" Sam asked, fixing his own basket in his hands.

"Oh, it was amazing." She laughed, "I had so much fun with the kids, and you should've seen their faces when we told them we were going to Disney World." She gave another laugh. Pamela was an aunt to two toddlers, and she'd spent about a month over in North Carolina to see them and her sister.

"That sounds awesome." Dean said, though the smile he gave was halfhearted at best.

Sam and Dean had never been to places like those as kids, having lost their mother at an early age, and having a father who was emotionally distant. Even to this day he still feels a little left out whenever anyone talks about their experiences. He'd never openly admit that, but Sam knew it. Hell, Dean was pretty sure Sam was a little broken up about it too. But they were adults now, Dean supposed, and it was time to get over the things he hadn't had as a child. Didn't mean he couldn't still be jealous.

Pamela had been laughing one second, then the next her features turned more serious. Her brows drew together as she spoke, "Boys, I heard about your father."

Instantly, Dean's eyes went anywhere but to Pamela's, staring at the handle of her buggy. "It happens." Was Dean's reply. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw how Sam glanced to him, a small scorning expression on his face.

"Yea, Pam, it's been rough lately. Right now we're trying to get all Dad's debts under control." He shook his head, "I had to come down from college to help out."

"Ooh, sweetie, that's too bad." Pamela set a hand to Sam's shoulder sympathetically.

Dean's features set into a hard frown, his hands gripping tightly onto the handles of his shopping basket. He couldn't listen to this. He didn't want to hear Sam say it out loud, how he'd failed. Suddenly, Dean took his basket and offered it to Sam's unoccupied hand. Sam took it, though not without giving Dean a puzzled look. "I just remembered I had to take care of something." He mumbled, then flashed Sam and Pamela both a fake smile, one he knew Pamela would eat up. Though Sam, of course, would see right through it. "Come visit some time, Pamela. We'll catch up some more then." He told her before turning completely around and headed out the store. He was glad Sam didn't call out to him, and he only heard Pamela's farewell.

Dean sighed heavily, knowing he'd get shit for that later, but right now all he wanted to do was go to the bar. He walked there, allowing Sam to drive Baby back home. He had a key of his own, so he didn't worry about whether or not he'd be able to get in. He was just glad everything was so close in his home town. Otherwise, walking everywhere would've been a bitch.

Once he got there, he made his way through a small crowd before he nabbed a seat right at the bar. He was about to flag over the bartender, ask for something strong, but then he paused. He didn't want to come home a mess, like what he was last night. He didn't want Sammy to see that, and he sure as hell didn't want to experience it again. His cheeks tinted red, a small wave of personal embarrassment running through him. Throwing temper tantrums was not on the _cool_ list.

So, he reversed gears and grabbed out his wallet, deciding to at least break his twenty while he was here. There was a pretzel stand a couple blocks towards the house that he'd swing by. He'd rather break his twenty here instead of out on the street, less chance of an incident that way.

"Hey man, do you happen to have change for a twenty?" he asked, dangling the twenty dollar bill in the air leisurely. The bartender, a man who might have been a bit older than Dean, a bit stouter, ear length blond hair, gave a nod.

"Yea, one sec." And Dean watched as the man turned away to retrieve his bills. It was only a few moments later that the bartender turned back around, "All I got are fives, is that alright?" he asked, handing Dean the bills.

Dean gave a shrug, "It'll do." He then handed the bartender the twenty, "I can always just ask this guy." He jerked his head in the direction of the man sitting one seat away from him.

The bartender gave a chuckle, "Alright then." And he went back to his previous task.

Dean leaned to his right, and slapped his hand against the bar a few times, hoping the guy would look over and not be rude.

Though, when the man _did_ turn to him, he wasn't sure why he looked so scared. Was Dean that intimidating? Dean made sure to speak gently, so he wouldn't scare this guy off like a colt, "Hey, sorry to bother you, but do you have five ones? I only got fives from the bartender." He explained. He wasn't sure if this guy even heard a word he said, because his eyes were so wide and his lips were clenched tightly together. He arched a brow, waiting for a reply, if any would come at all.

"Sure." Is what the guy finally said.

Dean was about to give a 'thanks', but the guy quickly turned away from him and he watched as he reached into the coat of the guy next to him and yanked out his wallet. The guy looked only slightly aggravated, growling a "Hey…" at him.

"I don't have any ones." He heard the man grumble, and Dean stifled a laugh with the back of his hand. The guy could've just said he didn't have any ones, that would've been fine, Dean could have gone to someone else.

Dean made sure to straighten himself out before the man turned back around, but he couldn't help the small grin that still curled his lips. He then watched as the man turned back to him, the other man's wallet in hand, and pulled five ones from it.

Dean grinned a bit broader, taking the cash from the man and then handed over his own five, "Thanks." He told him.

"Sure." Was all he said with a small smile of his own.

Dean couldn't take it, and he gave a chuckle. He nodded once to him and lifted himself up off the stool and made his way back to the entrance.

"_That was entertaining…" _Dean mumbled to himself under his breath. He couldn't believe it, but he actually found himself in a better mood now. Dean grinned to himself, sending a silent 'thank you' in his head to the quirky little guy he'd just met.

He decided he should probably head back to the store, catch up with Sammy if he hasn't checked out already. He had a neat little story to tell him.

With his appetite for a pretzel forgotten, he hurried through the parking lot, glad to see Sam was loading the groceries into the Impala. "Sammy…" he called out, waving a hand as he sped his walk into a jog.

Sam's head popped up out of the Impala, surprise on his face, "Hey." He called back, "I thought you were gonna walk home."

Dean chuckled, "No, see I said I had something to take care of." As he finally made it to the driver's side he clapped his hands together once, "And it's taken care of."

Sam quirked a brow but didn't challenge it, and only shook his head with a sigh, "Whatever. Just get in the car." He groaned as he shoved the rest of the cans into the back seat. Getting left with all the heavy lifting was annoying to say the least, and Sam's retaliation came in the form of rudeness.

Dean chuckled, then did as he was told. Sam could drive them back if he wanted, his encounter with the strange man had him in a more chipper mood. Now if only he had something like that around every time he got an ache in his side about his dad, then he'd be golden.


	11. Chapter 11

For the love of God, please do not crucify me if I sound dumb when I talk about the business. I personally don't know much about what the hell goes on in a business, but I'm trying my best. If there are some things that are blatantly wrong about what I wrote, please PM me so I can straighten it out. Thank you all.

**(BLD)**

Castiel and Gabriel made it home about thirty minutes after Castiel's little encounter. He was a little washed out, and he wanted some time to contemplate about things by himself and come to some sort of understanding about his life.

But Gabriel dragged him into the kitchen where he knew Lucifer would be and shoved Castiel into a seat by the island in the middle of the kitchen, much to his dismay.

"You will never believe what just happened." Gabriel started, clapping a hand to Castiel's back once, a bit painfully, and gained Lucifer's attention. He was busy seasoning a pork roast that Castiel assumed was for dinner, and his hands were dirty with raw meat juice.

"What?" he asked with a quirked brow, his hands never leaving the meat.

Gabriel grinned, glancing once over to Castiel then to Lucifer, "I think Castiel may have found someone he's finally interested in." Gabriel's eyes were slitted with his overwhelming smugness.

Lucifer's eyes went wide, "What? Where were you? Who was it?" he then abandoned the meat and went to the sink, washing his hands, "Was it someone we know?" he asked, his head craned over his shoulder to see his brother's faces.

Gabriel laughed, "We went to the bar down the street. Unfortunately, Castiel was so awestruck he forgot to ask for _his _name."

Lucifer gasped, turning off the faucet and only shaking his hands to dry them off, "No…" he looked from Gabriel to Castiel, "You're joking…" and he began to smile, his mouth agape.

Gabriel laughed, "Nope." And patted Castiel's back again, making him groan and shove his hand away from him with a glare. "Stop that." He groused.

Lucifer came from the stove and leaned against the island next to Castiel, "Tell me what happened." He demanded, with a giddy sense enthusiasm. He seemed a decade younger, and absolutely girlish.

Castiel rolled his eyes and sighed, "It was nothing, I got nervous and made a fool of myself."

"Oooh, it looked like a lot more than getting nervous." Gabriel chimed in, winking to Lucifer.

Castiel stared blankly down at the counter in front of him as his brothers laughed. No matter how many times he's told himself he's finally above all the childish things, or how many times he's accomplished great personal feats, coming home has always made him feel like the little nerdy twerp brother.

"I'd appreciate it if you'd stop treating me this way." He said almost coldly and sending Gabriel a glare.

Gabriel's hands went up in mock defense, "Whoa, cool it there, Bro." and he took a couple steps back.

"Hey, we're only picking." Lucifer reasoned, sending a light hearted punch to Castiel's shoulder. "How many times do we get to witness you have a crush, huh?" he asked, then ruffled at Castiel's hair, ruining the state he'd kept it in.

Castiel sighed, then reached up to comb it back in place with his fingers, "It's not a _crush_."

"Yea," Gabriel set a hand on Castiel's back, patting it gently this time, "He only just met the guy. He's got to learn his name first, maybe hang out some, go on a date-" "Gabriel…" Castiel hissed.

"What?" he looked to his brother, feigning innocence with a hurt look.

Lucifer chuckled, "Whatever the case may be…" he began, then came over to Castiel, brushing Gabriel's hand away and putting his hand in its place on Castiel's back, "I'm happy that you're finally showing some interest in _someone. _All jokes aside." And he leaned down and gave his brother a big hug, making it annoyingly suffocating and long, "But I feel I might get jealous." He whispered.

Castiel grimaced then struggled to get out of Lucifer's hold, "Stop saying things like that." He growled, annoyed.

"Like what?" Lucifer asked, only tightening his squeeze around Castiel's torso.

"Lucifeeer…" Castiel groaned.

Before Castiel could get a grip on his brother to get himself free, Gabriel joined in and hugged around Castiel's waist, laughing. Though the group hug didn't last long, as Michael soon entered the kitchen.

"Guys…" he called to them, and it was all that needed to be said to get Gabriel and Lucifer to let go of Castiel. The youngest brother huffed, shrugging out the wrinkles in his clothes.

"Hannah has asked me to allow another hospice worker to join her. She said things have become more difficult to handle on her own." He told them. The statement took all the joy and enthusiasm out of his brothers, and Castiel watched as Gabriel took a hard lean against the counter. Lucifer looked to the ground, silently, for a moment, until he could meet his older brother's eyes.

"Tell her she can have whatever she needs." He responded, all mirth and light-heartedness left from his voice. Any decision on matters about their father were decided between Michael and Lucifer. They were the ones who got Hannah in the house in the first place, despite their fathers many refusals. When it came to Gabriel, he was never sure what was best for his father and politely asked to be kept out of the matters.

Michael nodded once, "His name is Ephraim. He'll be starting tomorrow. She says they've worked together many times and he's exceptionally good at what he does." That's when Michael finally looked away from his brothers, to a corner in the kitchen, unable to look them in the eye as he spoke the last part. "He's going to make Dad's…transition…as painless as possible."

And without another word, he left them in the kitchen, headed to who knows where. No one asked questions about what Michael did anymore, though they know all he did was work. If he wasn't with his brothers, or their father, he was in his room, at his laptop, making sure things were kept in tip top shape at their father's company. He was kept busy most the time making phone calls and getting ready to take up ownership of the company.

Autman Furnishings is a company that sells and manufactures home improvement and decorative appliances and furniture. Their products range from entire kitchen sets, garden fountains, swimming pools, to children's outdoor playsets. Most of the decoration in their yard is directly from their factories and many of their top clients have visited their father's home and marveled at what all they have to offer.

Their products are sold in places like The Home Depot, Lowes and many other home improvement stores worldwide. The company was started in the 20's, selling simple lawn chairs, and they've grown and gotten stronger ever since.

The company has been passed down from father to son for generations, and Michael has always known he'd eventually take ownership. He just hadn't expected to inherit it so suddenly. His brothers could tell he was stressed, and they made sure to give him his space.

Lucifer sighed, going back around the island and back to work on the meal he was preparing. He didn't have anything else to say on the matter, and Gabriel and Castiel knew well enough not to speak to him while he looked the way he did. He almost seemed defeated.

Gabriel glanced from Lucifer to Castiel then pulled out his cell, "I'm gonna call Kali." He mumbled then headed out of the kitchen. Castiel stared after him, until he was out of site. He watched Lucifer for a few moments, following the movements of his hands as he spice the cut of meat in front of him.

He then ran a hand through his hair, deciding he needed to do something productive. That's when he realized he should probably give Balthazar a call. He hadn't heard a word from him since he got here.

And he also realized that maybe… he wanted to tell him the truth. If not the whole truth, then just the real reason he's here. He needed someone to talk to, and his brothers weren't exactly up for the task at the moment.

And he'd much rather talk about the bar incident with his best friend than his brothers at the moment.

* * *

><p>So, just in case some of you didn't notice, I didn't go with the name Novac. For me, I only associate the name Novac with Jimmy, and I feel like it just doesn't suit Castiel. The name Autman is religious and means respect, loyalty and strength, all great qualities of the brothers.<p>

**(BLD)**


	12. Chapter 12

Sorry I didn't update like I promised, I got really busy :/

**(BLD)**

Dean meticulously opened cans of beans, pouring them into a big pot to cook in. Along with the beans, he'd tossed in freshly diced tomatoes and onions. He took a large mixing spoon and stirred the mixture slowly while he kept one eye on a frying pan he'd put some ground meat into. Once the meat was fully cooked, he'd sprinkle some chili powder in with it, then toss the meat in with the beans.

"So what's this I hear about Ruby wanting to come down?" he asked, over his shoulder.

Sam sighed, sitting back from his laptop at the kitchen table, "She said she doesn't like it at the apartment, being all alone. Which is a big fucking lie, because Liam is there, constantly." He groaned, continuing to type up a paper for a class. "That guy never leaves the house unless he's got a class, ran out of beer and Cheetos, or is out at some chick's house." He shook his head at the antics of he and Ruby's roommate. "I have no fucking clue how that guy is even able to pay his half of the rent." He mumbled, squinting slightly.

Dean chuckled once, taking a small spatula and stirring around the meat in the pan, "Maybe he has an online job." He suggested.

Sam glanced over to Dean, over his screen, "I think the real issue is the fact that Ruby is probably packing a bag right now to come down here."

Dean sighed, his shoulders drooping, "Listen," he began, turning around to face his brother, "If you need to call her again and let _me_ talk to her-" "No, you'll just make her all pissy." Sam interrupted. "Then she'll just come to annoy you."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Whatever," he turned back to the pan, "Tell her what you need to tell her. Just make sure she knows she's not welcome here." He glanced back once to Sam, making sure he saw the face he pulled so he knew how serious he was.

Sam sighed, "I got it. It's just not that simple." He tried to make Dean understand, "Everything is a word game with her. One slip up and she could think that I'm the one who doesn't want her here-" "Hey, hey…" Dean interrupted this time, putting a hand up as he turned to him, "I don't need to hear your problems, because I have a solution that could fix everything for you."

Sam groaned, "I'm not gonna break up with her, Dean." He glared at his older brother, annoyed he'd bring that up again.

"What reason, what actual reason do you have to not to, Sam… Honestly." Dean challenged. He's asked the question many times before, and Sam has always been dodgy about his answer.

Sam sighed, exasperated, "I don't have to explain myself to you. It's not like you've ever had a serious fucking relationship." He spat.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Oh wow, Sammy, that stung." He turned back to his meat, finishing it off then tossing it in with the beans, turning off the stove eye it sat on. "Do whatever you want, I'm just telling you you're way better off, man."

Dean didn't get a response, and instead heard shuffling. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Sam was putting his headphones on, plugging them into his laptop and playing some music to drown out his brother. Dean sucked his teeth, "Yea, really mature."

* * *

><p>Castiel sat at his bed, dialing his friend's number, then stared at the ground as he waited for him to answer. It only rang twice before Balthazar finally answered.<p>

"Hello my friend, have you gone mad yet?" Balthazar chuckled. Castiel rolled his eyes, "Not yet. But give it some more time." He responded with a sigh.

"Aww, poor Cassie. I feel so bad for letting you get taken away like that." He spoke, and Castiel could hear the sounds of bells.

Castiel's brows furrowed, "Where are you?" he asked, lifting his legs up off the floor and folding them under him, Indian style. It was a subconscious action, something he did without realizing it as he talked on the phone.

"Oh, I'm at my niece's recital. They're warming up as we speak." And Castiel could tell that Balthazar was holding his phone out more so he could hear the sounds more clearly. He could pick out other various instruments tuning up, clarinets practicing scales, trombones holding G notes and percussion going through different rumbles.

"You know she made first chair flute last week, right? God, she is such a brilliant one." Balthazar talked up his niece like she was his own daughter. It made Castiel smile.

"That's good to hear. When do they start?" he asked, hoping he had some time to speak with his friend as thoroughly as he needed to.

"Well, all members of the band had to get here an hour early, so I've got some time." Then Castiel could hear the instruments get quieter and quieter. He assumed that meant Balthazar was heading away from them so he could hear him better when they spoke.

"What's on your mind, Cassie?" he asked, and Castiel could only faintly hear the louder instruments in the background.

"Well first off, have you checked my mail at all? I know I gave you a key all the months ago for when I went out of town," "Don't worry about it. I took the liberty of doing just that. You got your light bill, and some junk mail, but nothing else major." He told Castiel.

Castiel sighed, having hoped he'd have gotten a letter from the publishing house, "You know these things take time." Balthazar spoke up, "You'll hear back from them in a week, tops. Stop squirming." Castiel rolled his eyes.

"There's another thing…that I wanted to talk to you about, actually." Castiel brought up, indelicately.

"Oh? And what would that be?" there was a short pause before Balthazar tacked on, "You aren't breaking up with me, are you?"

Castiel chuckled lightly, "No, nothing like that." Then his slight smile fell, "Though it is somewhat of a grim topic."

There was another pause, "Oh dear. What's wrong?" Balthazar's tone had become more serious.

Castiel sighed, "I'm sorry, Balthazar, but I lied to you about why I needed to come home." Castiel ran a hand down his face before continuing, "That night, I found out that my father has come down with something. My brother told me he's dying… He has terminal brain cancer." He sighed again, trying hard to keep it together as he explained his situation to his closest friend.

Balthazar gasped, "Castiel, I am so sorry… You have nothing to apologize for, I understand if you didn't want me to know right away." Balthazar sighed, "Damn it. I wish I could be there for you."

Castiel started fiddling with a stray thread at the end of his pants leg, "I'd certainly have more things to do with you around." He thought aloud.

"How are things with your brothers? How are they handling it?" Balthazar asked.

Castiel pulled a face, "Well, Gabriel is being his usual self, trying to not let it affect him, but I can tell he's hurting inside." He then reclined back on his bed, "Lucifer seems to be stronger than all of us and seems to be handling it well. He's cooking a lot more, and I mean more than usual. It's a sign that he's stressed." Castiel then sighed, "And then there's Michael." He stared up at his ceiling, imagining the hard lines of his brother's features.

"It's hard to tell, really. I think out of all my brothers, I'm most distant with him." He frowned, "I hope to be changing that soon." He resolved.

"Well good. I don't mean to sound insensitive by saying this, but I think that this may bring your family together, like it should be." Balthazar spoke his opinion freely, and Castiel appreciated it. It meant Balthazar wouldn't shy away from pointing out Castiel's flaws in his writing, and it also meant he'd get the best advice as his friend.

Castiel was able to crack a small smile, "Yes, I can see it turning out for the better, as well. It's just unfortunate that it's under these circumstances."

Before Castiel could bring up other points of conversation to keep their chat going, there was a knock at his door, "Hold on, Balthazar, there's someone at my door."

Castiel got up and went to his door, expecting to see one of his brothers, but instead, he saw Hannah, "I'm sorry to interrupt, but your father is awake again, and he's asked to speak with you."

Castiel held his phone back to his ear, "I'm gonna have to call you back Balthazar."

After Castiel said his goodbyes to Balthazar, he followed after Hannah, suddenly very nervous, "Did he say why?" he asked, hesitantly.

Hannah only shook her head, "No, he only said he needed to speak to you privately." She then turned back to Castiel as they came up to his father's bedroom door, "Whatever it is, it seemed urgent." She answered. She then opened the door for him, "He should be able to talk, he was having some difficulty a few minutes ago, but now he seems fine." She informed him. With a small nod, he entered into the whirring and beeping room.

The door closed near silently behind him and he was left in the room with his father.

As he approached his father's bed, he saw how his eyes were still closed, and for a moment he wondered if he'd gone back to sleep. "Dad?" he called out to him quietly.

Soon, one eye opened, almost blearily, searching for him. "Castiel." His father spoke, a small smile curving his dry lips. "Sit here with me, we need to talk." he instructed him, one hand reaching to the side of the bed, patting the comforter for him to sit.

Castiel smiled back and did as he was instructed. "Hannah says you needed to speak to me about something urgent." He mentioned.

His father nodded, "Yes, and I don't want you to tell your brothers. This stays between me and you." He said, patting his sons hand. He then smiled to Castiel, "You know that I am very proud of you, right?"

For a moment, Castiel was confused by the sudden topic, but tried not to react. "I know, Dad."

His father shook his head, "No, no, I mean it. Even after you moved away, it hurt, yes, but I knew you did it to find yourself." His smile turned broader, "It took a lot of courage to move away from everything you've known to spread your wings." His father then squeezed his son's hand, tightly.

Castiel bit at his lip, trying to keep back the tears, though one solitary tear fell, "Thank you, Dad." He spoke, emotion choking his words.

"Don't cry, Castiel. I can already tell big things are going to be happening to you in your future." He told him, pride in his eyes.

Castiel wiped at his cheek with the back of his hand, then rubbed his fingers into his eyes. Soon after, he sighed, looking back to his father. "For the longest time, that's all I wanted to hear from you." He told his father. It was like the entire world was suddenly lifted from his shoulders.

His father then lifted his brittle arms and weakly hugged his son, and Castiel couldn't help the soft tears that fell from his eyes, holding his father back. It took Castiel a moment to regain his composure to keep talking.

"Castiel…" his father spoke, his eyes wandering around the room, "This next topic…is more pressing." He began. He then looked up to his son, "This is what you can't tell your brothers about."

Castiel reached behind himself, to a convenient box of tissues, and blew his nose. He sighed, throwing the spent tissue away into a bin beside the bed, "What is it?" he asked finally.

His father sighed, "My perception has changed, and I feel I might not be able to judge our family like I used to." He then looked Castiel directly in the eyes, "I'm losing my grip on things, Castiel. When I pass, all my worldly possessions will be given to you boys, and the more important things will be dealt with in my will. But that will hasn't been updated…" his father glanced elsewhere, "In about fifteen years."

He then looked back to Castiel, "Zachariah will be coming by tomorrow to help me sort things out. I need you to be the one to make sure things are in order after I pass."

Castiel's eyes went wide, "What do you mean?" he asked, suddenly very confused.

"In my will, I am giving you the right to make adjustments as you see fit to who inherits what." He answered, as if that was what answered all questions.

Castiel started shaking his head, "Dad…no, I can't. Why can't Michael?" he started to feel frantic, like things were becoming all too intense.

"Michael…" his father paused, his hand making a gesture in the air as he tried to come up with the right word to describe his eldest son. "He's…lost touch…with the family." He explained.

Castiel nodded, knowing exactly what he meant, "I feel, maybe he's spent too much time working for the company." That got his father to chuckle, though it turned into a pained action that Castiel panicked over, putting his hands lightly on his father's shoulder. His father eventually pushed them away, brushing it off as nothing.

"You're right. He works too much." He shook his head, "Even when we took that family vacation, you remember, to Florida? He couldn't stay off his computer for a few hours." He shook his head again. "That boy needs a girlfriend."

Surprisingly, that got _Castiel_ to laugh.

Though as his laughter died down, he reminded himself of their topic of conversation, "Dad, why are you giving me this responsibility? I can understand not giving it to Gabriel, but surely you must have at least thought about Lucifer…" he hoped he could persuade his father from making him one of the deciding factors in giving away his father's assets. He could just see the rage in his Uncle's eyes whenever he denied him something.

His father shook his head, "No, Lucifer has his restaurant to worry about. I don't want to add that pressure on him." He then looked to Castiel, "I hadn't realized this would be such a burden for you, son. Maybe I should… reconsider Michael…" he then glanced towards the window, which was closed with a thick curtain pulled across it.

Castiel sighed, "No, Dad, I…" he sighed again, more deeply, "I'll take the responsibility. It's just…shocking that you would trust me enough with such a task."

His father gave the best grin he could manage, "Don't tell your brothers…" he then glanced around as if looking for anyone else in the room, "But I trust you the most." He told him, giving him a little poke in the chest with a boney finger.

Castiel smiled, "Thanks Dad. That means a lot."

His father smiled wide, "Give me a hug and then go eat something. I need to rest some more." He told his son and then reached out to start the hugging without him.

Castiel chuckled as he hugged back, "Of course." As he pulled away, he spoke again, "I think it's worth mentioning that it's almost night. So I'll go have some dinner, and hopefully we can speak again in the morning." He told him.

His father nodded, "Alright, good night then, Castiel." He told his son as he pulled his blanket a little ways farther up his body.

"Good night Dad." He whispered, kissed his father on the forehead and left him to get his sleep.

He closed the door behind him, as quietly as he could, then sighed. He had a lot more to talk to Balthazar about, and he feared that this would be the end of the secret identity that he'd set up in Seattle.


	13. Chapter 13

After the chili had cooked for a good long while, Dean poured two bowls for them and they sat at the kitchen table and ate. Thankfully, Sam had taken out his earbuds by that time and they were able to have actual conversation.

"So, what did you get done today?" Dean asked as he poured a generous amount of Texas Pete into his bowl. Sam looked like he'd been busy the whole while the chili was cooking, staring intently at his laptop. It seemed he'd finally gotten done just a few minutes before Dean declared the chili was ready.

Sam eyed the bottle wearily, "Uh, well I finished my argumentative paper for English. Turned it in online." He told him then spooned some chili into his mouth.

Dean nodded, "What was your argument?" he asked, though he hadn't stopped shaking hot sauce into his bowl of chili.

Sam grimaced, shaking his head then explaining for his brother, "Well, I argued the existence of the paranormal. Like ghosts." He told him.

Dean chuckled, "Did you write about the time we got scared shitless when we swore we saw Grandpa Samuel that time right after his funeral?" he laughed again, then finally stopped shaking the hot sauce and put it down. He stirred his mixture as he continued, "Aw, man, we woke everybody up in the house, and Mom was so sympathetic." He remembered.

"Yea, and Dad was just pissed." Sam added on.

"He told us to stop making up stories and that it was funny to make a joke about Grandpa being dead." He shook his head, "Grandpa was totally a ghost." The both of them laughed, and the only reason they were able to was because the both of them were so young when it happened, and they hadn't been very close to their Grandpa.

Sam stood up and went to the counter where Dean had pulled out sour cream and cheese and began putting a little bit of both in his bowl with his chili, "Yea, no. I did include more practical cases though." He glanced around the counter, "You didn't cut any onions?"

Dean glanced back at his brother, an annoyed quirk to his brow, "You've got two functional hands." He retorted.

Sam rolled his eyes, deciding it wasn't worth the trouble. "Fine. Be that way." He mumbled. He sat back at the table and stirred his chili together.

Dean was eating diligently, and Sam prophesized a second bowl in Dean's future, "How can you eat chili with all that hot sauce?" he asked, though it was a halfhearted question as he chuckled through it.

Dean grinned, "Hey, if you can't take the heat, get out of the kitchen." He chuckled.

"Your jokes are deplorable." Sam said, shaking his head.

"_You're_ deplorable." Dean retorted weakly.

Sam chuckled, and continued to eat his chili, "Great comeback."

The brothers sat and ate, and Dean eventually did get up and pour a second bowl for himself. As he came back and sat down at the table, he sighed, "I have to work tomorrow. You gonna be okay here by yourself?"

Sam scoffed, "Um, yea? Do you think I'm gonna set the house on fire or something? I'm not eight." he chuckled.

Dean's brows furrowed, "No, but I'm kind of afraid you'll run around the house naked without me knowing, and I don't want to have to wonder if you sat on the couch with your bare ass." He told Sam.

"Oh yea, totally, I'm gonna sit on everything you love." Sam mocked a threatening tone as he pointed his spoon at Dean.

"Shut up." Dean chuckled, and almost knocked Sam's spoon out of his hand. "I'll be getting off at around three tomorrow, so if you want, you can swing by at twelve so we can get some lunch together." He told him.

"Yea, sure. Sounds fun." Sam commented, grinning slightly. While Dean was at work, that would give Sam his opportunity to go job hunting. If he was extra nice he might even be able to get his old job back as the resident handy man down at the Alice Springs motel. Then again, plenty of places would offer him more money once they saw on his résumé how he's already accomplished an associate's degree. He would come up with a solid plan tomorrow. The handy man gig would be his backup plan.

Once they had both gotten their fill, Sam helped Dean put away the leftovers. There was plenty left over to eat for several more days to come, and though Sam usually didn't like having the same thing too often, he knew there wasn't going to be any complaining from Dean.

He knew that that was what many years of military style diet did to you.

* * *

><p>Once Castiel had cleaned up in the bathroom, he made his way to the kitchen, and he hoped no one had seen him leave his father's room. He didn't feel like coming up with some sort of lie to cover himself.<p>

He could smell the pork Lucifer had been cooking for most the day, and it made his mouth water. He realized homemade meals were in every way superior to what he usually ate. He guessed that's why he looked so paper thin. He wouldn't necessarily call it a writer's diet, but rather a slacker's diet.

He came into the dinning room and was surprised to see that Gabriel and Kali were the only ones gathered at the table. Gabriel was muttering something, looking highly annoyed, and it seemed Kali was trying to soothe him, "It's gonna be fine, Gabriel." She tried to reason with him, but Gabriel brushed it off, "They're gonna start coming in like ants. Soon, we'll be infested with over perfumed family members." He groaned.

"What's going on?" Castiel asked after some time went by without them noticing him standing in the archway.

Gabriel stood up then, stepping out of his seat at the table and went for the small table in the corner where a bottle of Brandy sat amongst drinking glasses, "We just got a call from Anna." He told Castiel without looking at him.

He waited for Gabriel to continue, but eventually had to prompt him to do so, "And?"

"She called to give us the heads up that her and Samandriel are going to be making their way over from Connecticut. Aunt Naomi is going to be arriving a few days after." He informed him.

Castiel's brows wrinkled, not understanding why Gabriel stressed over their Aunt and cousins coming over. "Then let me rephrase the question." He mumbled, coming over to Gabriel where he was pouring a glass for himself. "Tell me why you're drinking."

Gabriel sighed, his head falling back with his eyes closed, "Aunt Naomi is bringing along a camera crew, to see her brother in his last few days." He then slowly turned to watch Castiel's expression turn shocked then angered.

"Where is Lucifer and Michael?" he asked, his tone harsh, now wanting to see if they were doing anything about this.

"Michael is already on the phone with her, in the kitchen." He pointed a thumb in the direction he needed to go, and Castiel was quick to leave to find them.

As he came through the hall and into the kitchen, he could already hear Michael's furious voice booming.

"I don't care _what_ you want, Naomi, we do not give our permission to have your cameras on our property, in our house, or anywhere near our father!" Michael screamed it over the phone, slamming his fist on the counter. Lucifer stared intently at his brother, sitting on a stool at the island. It looked like he was just waiting for his turn to speak with her.

Their Aunt Naomi owned a News Network based in Connecticut where she broadcasted hard hitting news and updates on foreign affairs. That was how she amassed her fortune, and she never asked for a dime from her brother. She'd never been jealous the family business had been passed on to him, and even though he'd offered her a major role in the company, she had declined.

"Who do you think told me…?" Michael scoffed, "They've already booked a flight for tomorrow." Michael's voice began to quiet down, though he was no less angered. It was very odd to see Michael this way, and the only time he could remember him being like this was when he was a teenager, and in his early twenties. He was very turbulent in his younger years, and since earning a respectable post in the family company, he's become more docile.

He was sure if he'd been on the receiving end of Michael's wrath he'd be terrified.

Michael growled "If you even _try_ bringing a hidden camera in here, I will sue your ass." His voice was quiet, but like a threatening snake, waiting to strike, frightening and intimidating.

Lucifer made an incredulous noise, looking from Michael to Castiel, "I can't believe her." He whispered to him. "Anything to get more views." He seethed, shaking his head.

Castiel swallowed, hoping that somehow that would dissipate his unease. He'd always known his aunt as a fantastic person… But the last time he'd ever spoken to her was three years ago. He wondered how much of her had changed in that short time, or if at all. Maybe he'd been naïve about her true nature…

"Lucifer…" he called to his brother, and once he looked over, Castiel nodded his head towards the doorway, then began to walk in that direction. Lucifer got the message and stood from the stool and followed after him. Once the both of them were out of ear shot of Michael, that when Castiel unloaded.

"Lucifer…" he glanced once to his brother who was threatening her again, "What's gotten into Aunt Naomi…?" he asked, tentatively.

Lucifer's brows rose, shocked, "Castiel, what do you mean? She's _always_ been this way." He glanced Castiel up and down, "Don't you remember when she tried to get me to sponsor her network?"

Castiel thought back, trying to remember all those years ago when Lucifer had first opened his restaurant and business was slow. "Yes, she said she'd give your restaurant a good review on the dining segment of the news." He also remembered that the plan had a falling out, and it had never happened. He was never sure why that was, exactly.

Lucifer sighed, "Yes, but _only_ if I sponsored her network." His brows furrowed at Castiel, "Didn't you hear about the giant argument we had?"

Castiel's eyes went to the floor. No, he didn't remember an argument. In fact, he was so busy trying to write articles, he hardly left his room during that time period. He had always just assumed Lucifer declined the offer because he felt he could work up the traffic in his restaurant on his own.

Lucifer sighed, "There's also a lot of things you don't know about her. You were too young to understand, and you've always loved her so dearly." He smiled sadly to Castiel, "We didn't want to break that illusion for you." He sighed again, one hand going to brace itself against the doorframe as he leaned into it, "I guess it's too late for that."

"But… Anna and Samandriel…" he brought up his two cousins because he could never remember an instance where they said a bad thing about their mother.

Lucifer chuckled, "Oh don't worry, they hate her guts. They're just good at holding their tongues and playing their part."

Castiel began to shake his head, "How long…"

Lucifer gave his brother a confused look, "How long what?"

"How long has she been so vindictive?" he asked, suddenly realize a few things. Like how every time she came to visit his father would always seem to be cranky until she arrived and he'd put on his plastic smile. Or like when one Christmas she gifted everyone with tickets to a show that was performed in Connecticut and she used that as an excuse to make them all visit her there.

Little things, small tiny things that were annoying or inconveniencing.

Lucifer sighed, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair, "To tell you the truth, I've never known her to not be this way."

Castiel nodded, "Thank you for enlightening me on our aunt." He told him, then he left Lucifer there and went straight to his room. Lucifer didn't call after him, and even if he did, Castiel wouldn't have answered.


End file.
